


Tifasledhoh: From Nothing

by themummersfolly



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence - Thor: The Dark World, Dark Elves, Difficult to Pronounce Space Elvish, Elves In Space, Family, Grouchy Female Protagonist, Maybe a Hint of Romance Towards the End, Royalty Drama, Shivaisith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 15:56:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 48,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14548230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themummersfolly/pseuds/themummersfolly
Summary: Alone, defeated, and on the run: Leena was out of options when the Dark Elves found her. Are they her salvation, or is she theirs?





	1. Into Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> *A Note on the Notes: This was originally published elsewhere and got good reviews, so I figured I'd put it up here. I've been trying to find ways to stay motivated to write int he midst of work stress, and trotting out previous successes seems to help.
> 
> Original notes:  
> Ok, I know. Thor: the Dark World came out two years ago. Better late than never. I came up with this story to get through immunology lecture and got attached to the characters; writing it down was a test run to see if I could get to 50k words.
> 
> To orient the reader: This story begins immediately after the events of T:tDW. Obviously it's an AU; the Dark Elves still have their ship and characters are alive who didn't survive in the film. They got a bad deal and I want to give them a fighting chance. Everything that looks like Marvel belongs to Marvel; I get nothing from this but fun and practice.
> 
> Shoutout to David J Peterson for his advice on Shivaisith, the Dark Elves language. I can neither confirm nor deny that I named a character after him.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the story. Comments welcome! (Seriously, I want to hear what you think.)

Running. Hearts pounding, sneakers hitting the pavement. Stumbling to a halt behind a dumpster.

"Have we lost them? I don't see them back there."

"No. They're still there. Keep going."

Running again.

Why did she have to do it? If Leena had known, she never would have taken the job. If someone had just warned her, if she had only had enough sense… if, if, if. "If" couldn't change what was happening now. It couldn't unsee the image in her mind's eye: Kelly – her brother – lying face-down with a puddle of blood where his legs should have been. He had screamed at her to run, just run, and she had. She hadn't stopped since.

There had been just enough time to collect the cousins, Silas and Violet. Fifteen and fourteen years old, they were too young to fend for themselves. If she left them they would end up back in foster homes, or in juvie.

Her stomach was churning; she swallowed and forced herself to think. Kelly would know what to do – but was he even alive? – and Leena didn't know which of his contacts she could trust. There was nowhere for her to hide; really, there never had been. She could hide her milk-white hair under a hoodie and her grey-rimmed eyes behind sunglasses, but there was always something that gave her away. An aura, maybe, or just a strain of bad luck from her mother. The cousins had the same strange looks, and between the three of them, they stood out like a landmark. Out of breath, they skidded to a halt again.

Silas was doubled over panting. "Haven't we lost them yet?" he gasped. He was fifteen, young enough to ask something like that. Leena shook her head. The sound of a motor in the distance made her jump.

"They're cops," she said. Violet stared at her wide-eyed, the dark grey sclera showing all the way around. Little Violet, Silas's fourteen-year-old sister – all this had been for her. She was the smart one, the gentle one, the healer. If the job had worked out, it would have been enough for a whole year of college, maybe two if they invested it. Violet could have gone on to get an associate's degree and become a nurse; she could have been something. Now all those dreams, all that any of them might have been, were gone, vanished into a puddle of blood and the smell of brimstone.

_Think, stupid._  Leena jarred her mind away from the reflection. There would be plenty of time later to reel; or maybe there would be no more time for her, which would at least save her the trouble. Right now she had to figure out their next move. They were at the harbor, near the docks, and the area was fairly deserted. It was late; not much activity at this hour. She heard the motor again, getting closer. Cops or civilians? Probably cops. There was probably a drone, too, up past where she could see. There were containers nearby; if they could figure out which ones were outbound, they might be able to stow away. But if the cops were smart, they'd search the place with dogs and scent them out. Given the severity of what Leena and her brother had done, they'd probably put the place on lockdown. They'd never make it out of the harbor.

_Get us out of here!_  Leena never thought to call the panicked cry a prayer. On instinct, she reached up and clutched at her necklace. It was a pendant on a string, a solid lump of black material with a twisting, irregular pattern across it that made it look as if it had been grown, not made. It had belonged to Leena's mother, and she had told Leena that it would bring help if she was in trouble. Rolling it nervously around her hand, she must have squeezed it too hard, because suddenly a small section indented beneath her fingers. She looked down at it and started, tearing it from around her neck and hurling it away from her. It had begun to give off a dull red light, blinking every few seconds.

"What is it?" cried Silas. Leena backed away, pushing him and Violet behind her.

"I don't know. It's never done that before." At least one car was rolling along behind the nearest warehouse. She grabbed Violet's hand and started moving again. "Come on."

* * *

They were near the water now, running between the wharves and the warehouses where the air smelled like dead fish and diesel. Leena could hear cars nearby and getting closer. The cops were closing in. If they tried to stow away on one of the ships they would probably get caught. They might be able to hide on the roof of one of the warehouses; but anyone flying over in a helicopter would see them, and Leena didn't think Violet could make it up at any rate. She paused, looking around for another option. There was a humming noise coming across the water. She shook her head, but it didn't fade.

"Do you hear that?" said Silas. He was looking out over the wharves, trying to find the source of the sound. Nothing was moving, on the wharves or the water, but the humming was getting louder. Out beyond the docked ships, something disturbed the water. A line of waves began moving toward them. Leena's first, wildly irrational thought was that it was either Godzilla or a torpedo; she stared at the approaching disturbance, motioning her cousins to get back.

A huge container ship groaned as something invisible pushed it aside. There was the sound of metal grating on concrete, then silence. Waves lapped against the wharves. Then, abruptly, a vast black shape materialized out of the air in front of them.

Silas and Violet both yelled. Leena gaped at the thing that had come to rest in front of her. It was an oblong shape, with the remains of a dull red light fading from its center and bladelike fin sweeping out to one side. There was a vaguely organic shape to it that reminded Leena of her necklace. It stood easily thirty feet high; there was no telling how long it was from side to side.

_Aliens_ , thought Leena. Horrible scenes from a year ago flashed through her mind. There wasn't anywhere left to run; they had cops behind them and an alien in front of them.  _Maybe they'll fight each other and we can get away._

There was a sharp hiss from the black thing and all three of them jumped. A panel slid open and four figures emerged, fanning out like a guard. They were more or less human-shaped, but their faces were expressionless, mask-like, dead-eyed. They were heavily armored and carried what looked for all the world like rifles.

Leena backpedaled so fast she nearly fell over. Behind her, Silas and Violet clung together, too terrified to make a sound.  _We're dead,_  she realized.  _The cops won't get here in time._  There was more movement in the shadows. A fifth figure emerged; it had the same armor and dead expression as the others, but it was taller, and a black cloak swept over its shoulder. It turned this way and that as if looking for something. After a moment it paused, facing the frightened trio. Leena had the feeling it was looking straight at her.

"You! Where is the other like us?" The creature's lips didn't move when it spoke. Some still-rational corner of Leena's mind caught the detail and filed it away. "Speak!"

"What other?" she stammered.  _We're gonna die._

"The one that looks like us. The one who called us. Where is he?"

_We're gonna freaking die._

"Called?" It was Silas who spoke. A second later he pushed forward. "You mean with this? Is this yours?"

He was holding Leena's necklace by its cord. It was still pulsing red light. The alien spokesman became very still.

"You?" There was disbelief in the word.

"Yes." Leena snatched the pendant away from her cousin. "It's mine. I turned it on." Maybe if she acted confident enough, they'd shoot her and the others could escape. The guards stepped aside and the spokesman made his way forward.

"You are  _älfen_ _ä_ _ä_?"

Leena knew what that word meant. She hesitated. "Yes."

Engines rumbled nearby. From the corner of her eye she saw an SUV pull around the nearest warehouse. The alien turned with a swirl of his cloak.

"Come," he ordered. "There's little time."

_Cops behind, aliens before._  Silas was fidgeting anxiously beside her. As the alien strode away from her, Leena saw a braid of white hair down his back.  _We don't have a choice._

"Come on." She seized her cousins' hands and pulled them along. The guards closed in as they moved toward the door. Somewhere behind them, wheels screeched on the blacktop. Without looking back, Leena stepped over the threshold and into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> älfenää: Shivaisith for a Dark Elf; what the DE's call themselves. Plural is älfeneel.


	2. The Ark

The time that followed, which seemed to stretch out endlessly, remained in Leena's mind long after as a confused jumble of claustrophobia and disorienting motion. Violet whimpered in the darkness; blank, eyeless faces stared at them, outlined in the dim red light. Leena kept her back to her cousins, facing their captors as if she could somehow hide her family from them. She was out of plans now; this was far beyond anything she knew how to deal with. The air seemed thick and smothering; the floor and walls shuddered sickeningly. Fragments of thought surfaced in her mind, blazing for a moment before sinking back:  _This is it. This is death. I wonder if I'll see God._ Then,  _I wonder if I'll see my dad._ The floor heaved and Silas grabbed her shoulder.  _Am I dying, or am I being born?_

Without warning or explanation, the motion of the walls stopped and everything became still. A long time later – or maybe it was only minutes, it was impossible to tell – there was a grinding  _clunk_ , as if they had come into contact with something very large. Leena swallowed and squared her shoulders. She gave her cousins' hands a squeeze to steady them.

One of the walls shifted and opened. It was the same entrance they'd come in through. All but two of the guards exited; the remaining ones came to stand on either side of the huddled captives. Leena recognized the tall one with the cloak.

"Out." He pointed to the exit, stepping aside slightly so they could pass. Pulling her cousins along, Leena did as she was told. They stumbled down a short ramp into a narrow corridor that curved away in either direction. Across this, they were shepherded into another tiny, claustrophobic room with the other guards. Everything was pitch dark; what little light they had was dull red and only made it seem darker. The doors to the tiny room closed, and the floor lurched. They were going up.

The doors opened again and they were herded out. It was no less dark here, but the air seemed cooler and more open, with a slight breeze as though a large open space were nearby. Leena and her cousins huddled in the middle of the passage, taking in the arched ceiling, the irregular walls with their many openings. The tall man and two other guards moved to surround them.

"Come," he said with a jerk of his head, and started down the corridor. Something like courage or stubbornness awoke in Leena and she dug in her heels.

"Wait," she called after him. "Where are we? Who are you?" Silas and Violet stayed behind her, clinging together and staring over her shoulders. The tall man turned back.

"I am Algrim the Strong, commander of this Ark." His tone was cold and annoyed. "You will come this way." He resumed his course. Leena scowled. Silas tapped her shoulder.

"Maybe we should do what he says." The boy's voice quavered. She took a breath and started forward. They couldn't afford for her to pick a fight with an alien officer.

Algrim led them down a series of corridors as dark as or darker than the first. Leena's eyes had adjusted to the low light, but there wasn't much to see. They passed a handful of creatures like the guards – they could have been the same guards, for all Leena could tell them apart – before Algrim halted beside a section of wall. Leena missed the mechanism he used, but suddenly a panel slid back and a narrow chamber stood open. Algrim stood back and motioned them to enter. Leena stared suspiciously into the darkness. It didn't smell bad, and there was no movement. There didn't seem to be anything but empty walls and floor.

"Okay, I think it's safe," she said, partly for her cousins' benefit, and partly so that Algrim character would know she wasn't going down without a fight. The three of them entered the room cautiously. They hardly had time to take it in before the door slid shut with an resounding click. Leena whirled.

"Hey. Hey!" She pounded it with her fists. "Open this door! Open it! You did not just lock us in! Algrim! Get back here! Open this door, damn you!" She bounced off the panel like a tennis ball.

"What's gonna happen to us?" Violet's voice was tiny. Leena ground her teeth and tried to pull herself together.

"It's gonna be okay." She went over and put an arm around each of her cousins. "We'll get out of this just fine. Besides, if they wanted to do anything to us, they'd have done it by now." She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

"It's so dark in here," Violet whispered. Leena was still holding on to her necklace. She didn't dare put it in her pocket, now that it had turned out to be a glowing alien artifact. She opened her hand and let the dim red blinking light up their faces. It wasn't much, but it kept the darkness at bay.

* * *

The room was long and narrow, maybe twice the size of the room Leena and Violet shared at home. The three of them sat huddled in the far corner, using the necklace for light. Leena had no idea how long they were expected to stay there, or even how long it had been since they had been locked in. There was a kind of hole in the corner with a sealed cover that they could use when the need arose, but there was no food or water, and they were all starting to get hungry.

It must have been hours later that the door opened again. It was Algrim. Violet and Silas had dozed off; Leena scrambled to her feet and stood between them and the door.

"You," Algrim said. "Just you. Come with me." He motioned to the necklace in her hand. "And bring that."

Leena braced herself. Behind her, she could hear Silas stirring. She thrust her hand into her pocket and pulled out a butane lighter, which she jammed into her cousin's hand.

"Here. Don't use it too much or it'll run out."

"Huh? What?"

"Take care of Vi! I'll be back!"

"Leena!"

She was already in the corridor. The door slid shut, cutting them off.

"This way." Algrim started down the corridor. Leena followed.


	3. Algrim the Strong

He led her through the deserted corridors, into a tiny room that jolted unnervingly (it turned out to be an elevator), and down still more corridors. Leena was now thoroughly disoriented. She guessed that this "Ark" was some kind of ship; in the distance she could hear a low hum that sounded vaguely like machinery. The only lights were dim and red. Back home, she had always been more comfortable in the dark than anyone she knew; but this was a bit much, even for her.

Algrim stopped and opened another panel door, leading the way into a much larger room than the one Leena and her cousins had occupied. There was a sort of table or desk in the middle of the floor; he stepped toward it, raising a hand as if to stroke his chin. There was a soft pop and hiss, and second later he pulled off his entire face.

Leena screamed. As her panic subsided, she noticed him holding what he had pulled off: a thin plate of metal with the blank expression printed onto it. Another face was staring bemusedly at her where the dead eyes had been, but this one was very much alive.  _So it was a mask_ , Leena thought. She felt stupid.

"I… you startled me," she muttered, trying to look more composed. Algrim placed the mask on the table and said nothing.

Leena stared at him. He was dark skinned, with broad features and wide-set eyes. Back in New York, people would have called him African-American; but he was unquestionably neither African nor American. A headband or half-helmet framed his face, leaving his braided hair exposed. The hair – his braids, his eyebrows, even his eyelashes – was stark white. His ears came to a cat-like point. But his eyes were the most unsettling. They were pale grey, almost white, and rimmed with jet black sclera. Leena had seen the same eyes staring out of her mother's and aunt's faces.

The elf – he was a Dark Elf, she realized – made no comment if he noticed her staring. He walked slowly to the far side of the table before turning to face her.

"Are you or are you not  _älfenää_?"

"Huh?" The elf had scars running from his temples to his jaw on both sides of his face. Leena tried to stop gawping and focus.

"You told me you are a Dark Elf. Are you or are you not?"

"Um, yes and no. It's kind of complicated." Leena felt like she was back in high school, getting chewed out by the principle.

Algrim raised his eyebrows, as if to say  _try me_. When Leena didn't say anything, he held out a hand.

"Give me the beacon."

"You mean this?" Leena held up her necklace. "Here." She tossed it. Algrim caught it deftly. He examined it, turning it over in his hands; he must have done something to it because a moment later it stopped blinking.

"Where did you get this?" he demanded, glancing up.

"From my mother," Leena muttered. "It's been in the family for over a hundred years."

"Do you know what this is?"

Leena shrugged. "A necklace." He didn't bother to correct her.

"And why did you call us?"

"Is that what that thing does?" Algrim's cold stare reminded her that this was not high school. She decided to straighten up and give a real answer. "I didn't know. It turned on by accident."

"There were others following you. Were you trying to escape them?"

"…Yes."

"Why?"

She really didn't want to talk about it. "They just don't like us."

"Why?"

Leena considered telling him to shove it. She swallowed and thought of Silas and Violet.

"They're cops, or feds, or something. Guys with the government. We kind of pissed them off. Not Silas or Violet," she added. "Just me and … I had a brother. Him and me."  _Kelly._  All of a sudden she felt lightheaded.

"What did you do?"

"Broke in, stole some stuff. They didn't tell us it was S.H.I.E.L.D. We wouldn't have…" She was having a hard time talking.  _Don't show this guy any weakness._

"Your name… is Leena?"

"Yeah.. it's Khaleen. Khaleen Donovan. Can I have my necklace back?"

Algrim ignored the request.

"Your name is Shivaisith." He paused. "And are you or are you not a Dark Elf?"

"I said it's complicated." Leena shuffled. Once again, she shrank under Algrim's expression. "My grandmother was one. My mother was half-and-half. My dad was human. I grew up in New York."

"On Midgard?"

"No. New. York."

Algrim was watching her closely.

"Enough," he said. "Tell me your lineage."

"My what?"

"Those who came before you, the elves and the half-elves."

"Oh. My mother's name was Maedh. Her mom was named Alflyse. She was the Dark Elf."

At the mention of Leena's grandmother Algrim started.

"And the other two, your kin?"

Leena bristled. "Why? They're just kids, they didn't do anything. They're related to me. That's not a crime."

Algrim scowled.

"I do not suggest that it is. I ask how they are kin to you."

Leena hesitated.

"Their mom was my mom's sister. Her name was Amberle."

"And their mother, you say, was Alflyse." He paused. "And her mother's name?"

"I never heard." Leena was starting to feel a little bolder. "Why do you need to know all of this?"

"Because," Algrim said. "I knew Alflyse, briefly. What is more important, I knew her brother."

_Brother?_  "I didn't know she had a brother."

"He is but two days dead. And he was our king."

Leena blinked. "Wait – what?"

"You have heard of him, I imagine. He was called Malekith, the Accursed."

"No, I haven't heard. What are you talking about?" This was not strictly true; Maedh had mentioned the name Malekith more than once, and in a reverent tone reserved for a hero. Leena hadn't known he was a king. She felt queasy.

Algrim watched her evenly.

"I am talking about your fate. Whether or not you knew, you are of royal blood. You have heard of Malekith, have you not?"

"My mom used to talk about him."  _She used to preach about him! "When the planets align and the doors open, he'll be back; back with sorcery and an army, ten thousand strong! We – the loyal ones – we'll swear our allegiance and take our due. But everyone else – those people out there, the greedy, smug bastards who've kept you down and taken what should have been yours – they'll get their due, too! We'll take it out of them in blood – "_  Leena shuddered and tried not to think about it.

"Where does your mother dwell?"

"Nowhere. She's dead."

"When?"

"Few years ago. I was seventeen. She killed a cop, so they shot her." Algrim glanced up. "She had it coming," Leena added coldly. He didn't question the statement.

"And her sister, Amberle?"

"Also dead."

"The other two, Silas and… Violet. They were her only children?"

"Yes."

"And the children of Maedh, they are you and a brother?"

"Yeah." This time she managed to keep her composure.

"And does your brother yet live?"

"I don't know." So much for composure. Algrim got up and walked around the table, slowly, as if Leena might run off if he startled her.

"Tell me."

For a moment he reminded her of the counselor back in high school, but not so sappy and annoying. She swallowed.

"A friend of Kelly's came and talked to us; he said he was with this company. They wanted us to get these packages. I don't know what was in them, but we were almost out when one of 'em started beeping or buzzing or something… Kelly put it down and told me to get back from it, and then it just – blew up – "  _The concussion hit her like a baseball bat. She could hear shrapnel cutting through the bushes beside her…_  "Kelly was just – I think his legs were off – there was blood – " She was shaking. For a long moment, Algrim was silent.

"Then," he said gravely, "you and your two kin are the last survivors of the house."

"I guess so."

"Then you are descended in unbroken female line from the royal house of Harudheen."

"So?"

Algrim frowned.

"Malekith left no… living descendants." His voice faltered a little. "You are his last living kin. His heirs."

"So what?"

Algrim seemed to be waiting for her to get it.

"A better room has been prepared for you," he said at last. "Your cousins have already been brought to it. I will speak to you again there."

The door to the chamber opened and two guards appeared. Reluctantly, Leena followed them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shivaisith: the language of the Dark Elves, as created by David J Peterson.
> 
> Harudheen: the home planet of the Dark Elves.
> 
> Khaleen: I made her name up. I have no idea what it means.


	4. Honored Guests

The moment Leena stepped through the door of the new room, she was mobbed by her anxious cousins.

"What's going on?" Silas cried. "They moved us here right after you left. What are they going to do to us?"

"Calm down. They're not gonna do anything to us."

"How do you know? This place looks like the set from  _Aliens_. How do we know there isn't something hiding in the air ducts or whatever that's gonna –"

"Knock it off. You're scaring Violet." Leena looked around. The room was smaller than the one she had just left, with similar furnishings. There was enough red light to see the irregular texture of the walls and the two low platforms built into them at the far end of the room. Leena walked over to one and tapped on the panel above it, then jumped when it sprang open a few inches. Behind the panel was an alcove about the size of a wall locker, containing a dark cylindrical mass. Leena poked at it; it felt like a big cushion. She closed the panel.

"That Algrim guy asked me a bunch of questions about our family, about Maedh and your mom and Grandmother. He was really interested in everybody who's part elf. He seems to think we're related to somebody he knew."

"Are they going to let us go?" Silas asked. "We've got to get home. We've gotta find Kelly –"

Leena didn't let the others see her reaction.

"We can't help Kelly. We can't even help ourselves. I don't know what's going to happen to us."

The trio sat huddled in the darkness of their new quarters while Leena wondered silently what they were going to do and Silas wondered aloud if they were in space by now. He thought their captors had been on Earth recently; he recalled seeing a news broadcast – "from, like, France or something" – only a few days ago. Leena recalled being too caught up in preparations for the job to pay attention to the TV. Violet clutched the lighter and said nothing.

After a while the door opened again and a guard entered wordlessly, leaving behind three bowls of runny mush and a jug of what turned out to be water. They ate cautiously, not saying much; Leena guessed that they were being monitored somehow.

Algrim returned sooner than they expected. This time, instead of escorting Leena away for questioning, he came a few steps into the room and stopped.

"I must speak with you." He watched the huddled trio in the corner, waiting for a response.

Leena had gotten to her feet the moment she heard the door open. She returned Algrim's gaze uneasily. At some point during their previous interview, she and her cousins had gone from prisoners to guests, and she wasn't sure how.

"I'll go with you," she offered.

"What I have to say is for you all," Algrim said gravely. "I have come to the understanding that you are the last surviving relations of Malekith."

Leena said nothing. Behind her, Silas and Violet exchanged glances.

"Who?" Silas asked.

Algrim blinked and looked questioningly at Leena. Apparently he had expected her to pass on what he had told her. She stared back at him.

"What's he talking about, Leena?" Violet whispered anxiously.

"It was one of Maedh's lines, about how the Convergence was coming and Malekith would come back and then we'd get our due," Leena muttered. Algrim frowned at them.

"Do you know nothing of your heritage?" The question was directed at Silas and Violet. Silas shrugged.

"Our mothers were half-elves." Violet's voice was small but clear.

"What else?"

"Elves live longer than regular humans. And there are different kinds. Our grandmother was a Dark Elf."

Algrim nodded.

"She left us long ago, before the fall of Harudheen. Before she departed, her brother gave her this." He opened his hand, revealing Leena's necklace. Leena jumped forward to snatch it back, but he closed his hand again and held in out of her reach.

"Oh, come on!" Leena cried. "What is that thing supposed to be, anyway?"

"It is a beacon, given to our operatives on their missions," Algrim said. "When they have completed their mission, it can be activated so that they may be found, wherever they are. There are no others known to be missing."

"So our grandmother was some kind of 'operative'?" Leena demanded.

"No, she was a princess, and as such she could not be simply abandoned, despite her eccentricities."

_So that's what Maedh meant about the necklace bringing help._

"I still don't get it," Silas said. "Who the heck is Malekith? And weren't you guys in, like, Paris or something a few days ago?"

"Malekith, the son of Kitharn, was our king, and the brother of your grandmother, Alflyse." Algrim seemed content to ignore the second question.

"So… that makes us royalty?" Silas guessed. "Hey Leena! We're royalty!"

"Yeah, yeah." Leena motioned at him to shut up. "Was that what you need to talk to us about?"

Algrim straightened up and adopted a look of stiffly formal courtesy. "There is something you must know. You, Khaleen, know already that Malekith is… dead. He has no living kin but you. Therefore, you are his heirs, and have a right to his title.

"There is more." He paused, seeming to mull over his next words. "We lost many men in battle with Asgard and during the Convergence, and there were few enough before that. Those who are left… without a king to lead them, they are losing hope. I believe that you might change that." He looked straight at Leena.

"Wait – me?"

"Yes. You are the next in line. If you were presented to them under the right circumstances, they would accept you."

"Woah woah woah." Leena looked around, bewildered. "You want me to take over from Malekith and what? Lead these guys? I thought you were the leader."

"I am captain of this Ark and of the men aboard it," he replied. "But I too was only a servant of the king. I may command the men's actions; I cannot command their hearts."

Leena could feel Silas and Violet staring at her. She felt like she ought to be laughing; this was ludicrous. But there was no sign of humor in Algrim's face. He was watching her expectantly, almost hopefully.

"Can I talk to you outside?" she asked. He nodded.

Once in the corridor, Algrim closed the door and turned to face Leena. She chewed her lip, trying to make sense of what she had just heard.

"So, you think I'm next in line for the throne or whatever?"

"You are the only surviving child of the eldest daughter of the Princess. Maedh was the firstborn, was she not?" He hesitated.

"Yeah, yeah." She was still thinking. "And you want me too… Oh, man. Dude, I can't even take care of my own family."

"I do not ask you to do anything, merely to be." He seemed to fumble for an explanation. "A king is a fixed point around which his people revolve. He gives them order and purpose. We no longer have that order and purpose. I ask you to restore it. I can continue to manage the dealings of the Ark."

"So you want me to be like the Queen of England." Algrim answered with a confused stare. Leena tried to clarify. "She doesn't make laws or anything, but everybody still cheers and sings  _God Save the Queen_ and stuff. She's a figurehead. You want me to be a figurehead."

"Yes." There was a desperate edge in Algrim's voice."The Dark Elves are dying.  _Your people_  are dying. I cannot fill the void that Malekith left. I cannot give the men courage. You must, or we are lost."

Leena took a half step back, staring. From the moment she had first seen him, Algrim had given off a sense of effortless ability and confidence. Now, though, he stood before her with his hands outstretched, looking as if he might fall to his knees at any moment. To see him begging terrified Leena; she felt she ought to turn away or throw a blanket over him, anything to give him back some dignity.

"Khaleen." He was waiting for a response. What else could she do?

"Ok."


	5. Figurehead

Immediately after their discussion, Algrim returned Leena to her cousins and left again. Silas and Violet stared at her when she told them.

"Dude!" was all Silas could say in response. Leena ground her teeth.

"When you think about it, we really don't have a choice."

"Like, you mean, they'd dump us in the depths of space if you said no?" Violet asked.

"Yeah, assuming we're in the depths of space." Leena didn't know where else they'd be. "The point is, we can't go back, not with S.H.I.E.L.D. after us. These guys are the only chance we've got, so we have to stay here and do what they want."

"What do we do?" Silas wanted to know.

"Uh… I don't even know." At that moment the door opened and Algrim returned.

There was a smaller room a few yards down from the one Leena and her cousins now occupied. Algrim ushered her inside and shut the door. There was a bundle in his hand, which he held out to Leena.

"Put it on," he directed.

Leena stared at it. "What is it?"

"Your survival suit. If you are going to be our queen, you must dress like one of us."

She reached out and took the bundle. Whatever it was made of felt cold and stiff. She immediately began to regret her decision.

* * *

_It is far too early to be having a battle of wills._  It had taken Algrim all of fifteen minutes to inform his officers of the girl's answer, and already she had gone back to her obstinate manner.

"Put it on," he urged her again. She glowered at him and didn't move. He immediately began to regret his decision.

The girl – Alflyse's granddaughter – didn't even look like a Dark Elf. She was dressed in the manner of Midgard, he supposed: sturdy trousers and a hooded grey overtunic with a large pocket in front. All of her clothes were badly worn, and the tunic and trousers hung off her like they'd been made for a much larger person. She slouched and kept hiding her hands in her pockets, and her hair hung wild and unkempt into her face.

_If they see her now, they'll mutiny,_  Algrim thought in dismay.

"Go out," she snapped.

"What?"

"Go out. Or what, you want me to get dressed in front of you?"

"Dress in front of me or behind me, but  _dress_." Algrim turned his back. The rustling of cloth indicated that the girl was doing what he had told her.

It took far longer than it should have for her to figure out the various parts of the suit. When she was finally finished she let Algrim turn and see her. She was slouching more than ever, with her arms crossed and her feet turned in. Her hair hung, if possible, further into her face, and she glared at him from under it as from under a hood.

"Do I have to wear this?"

"If it doesn't fit, it can be adjusted." He moved to help her, but she stepped back defensively.

"Don't touch me!"

Algrim sighed with frustration. The girl's attitude was starting to get to him.

"Nervy little fool," he muttered.

He should have kept the comment to himself. The girl whirled, standing up straight if only from outrage.

"Listen, Legolas –"

There wasn't time for this. Algrim pulled a stool out from the corner.

"Sit," he instructed.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to clean your hair and braid it so that you look like a civilized creature."

"My hair's fine."

Algrim took a deep breath.

"A queen wears her hair braided."  _All_ älfeneel _wear their hair braided!_

The girl stomped over and sat down. Algrim took out a vial of cleanser, poured some onto her head, and began combing it through.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm cleaning your hair. Sit still." It was like dealing with a small child.

Once her hair was clean he began separating the strands for the braids. She would wear royal braids, like her predecessor. Algrim had several millennia of practice and could bind his own braids in less than five minutes; but then, he wore the braids of command, and he did them on himself. Binding royal braids on another person's head was a different matter, especially if that person kept moving.

"Sit still." He forced her head back into position yet again.

At long last he finished and she stood up. He had brought a mirror with him which he now handed to her. She peered into the dark reflection while he stepped back to examine his work.

She seemed to have momentarily forgotten to slouch. She was taller than he'd originally thought, with straight limbs and an athletic frame. The suit hung awkwardly in a few places; it needed adjustment, but nothing major. It could wait until she was calmer. The braids weren't his best work, but they were straight and even. Pulling the girl's hair back brought out the sharp angles of her face and gave her a severe look; for the first time, Algrim noticed the family resemblance and felt his throat tighten unexpectedly.

He had brought with him the overgarments she would wear, and she put them on without argument: an elegant black tabard and a cloak to indicate her status. When she finished, he nodded in approval.

"Khaleen," he said, "you are ready."

* * *

The crew of the Ark, the last remnant of Harudheen, had been gathered in the central chamber of the ship, where they were to receive their new queen. Khaleen was to address them in their own language; Algrim had spent the last hour trying to get her to memorize the speech he had prepared for her, with limited success. As he had explained it to her, she was greeting her new people, offering a few words of mourning for her predecessor, and pledging to work for the survival of her people and lead them into a better future. For all she knew, she could have been reading a grocery list. Maedh's lessons in their mother tongue had be remarkably sparse.

Flanked by her cousins, Khaleen found herself led onto a balcony. She was one level above the floor of the chamber; the vaulted ceiling soared up and up, level upon level. The floor and several levels up were packed with a silent crowd of Dark Elves, all masked and armored, all watching her with those unnerving blank eyes.

Algrim spoke for several minutes, evidently introducing them, while Khaleen tried not to squirm. Pulling her hair back and putting her in this ridiculous scuba-suit made her feel badly exposed. Behind her, Violet tugged on her cloak and flashed her a secret thumbs-up.  _"Don't worry,"_  she had whispered earlier.  _"You're wearing a cape, of course you'll do fine."_

Algrim finished and motioned for Khaleen to step up.

_Do it for Silas and Vi. You don't have a choice._

" _Of course you'll do fine."_

Khaleen squared her shoulders and stepped forward, placing both hands on the railing. Projecting her voice as much as she could, she delivered the speech Algrim fed her line by line, hoping she sounded like a confident monarch. When she finally ran out of lines, she was greeted by dead silence from her audience. Her stomach dropped like a rock.

_But I did all I could!_  For one panicky moment she stared out over the sea of blank faces. Then, somewhere in the middle of the crowd, a single soldier raised his hand, holding aloft a drawn knife. One by one, in total silence, other hands were raised. Some held knives, others rifles. At last every person in the room was holding a weapon above his head.

Out of the corner of her eye, Khaleen saw little of the tension go out of Algrim's body. So suddenly he made her jump, he barked something out across the crowd, and they gave a single shouted response. Khaleen didn't know what had been said, but she knew what it meant: they had accepted her as their queen.


	6. Day One

There were no festivities after the coronation; Khaleen and her cousins were simply escorted back to their room and left there. Food was brought, and someone had the presence of mind to remove the sleeping mats, one of which Khaleen had discovered earlier, from their wall lockers and spread them out on the bunks. After that they were alone.

"So this is it, huh?" Silas sprawled across the end of the girls' bunk. Khaleen sat cross-legged at the head of the bed while Violet examined her braids.

"How long did it take him to do these?" she wanted to know.

"I dunno, ten minutes? He had to pull 'em out a couple times."

"Only ten minutes? These would have taken me all day!"

"So what's next?" Silas asked. "We're just gonna stay here?"

"We have to. There's nowhere else for us to go. Besides, I'm the queen now. So we just stick around and play the part, you know."

"You have a part to play," Silas pointed out. "What about us?"

"You're still royalty. Prince and princess, or something like that." Violet finished poking at Khaleen's hair, and she flopped back onto the mattress. Silas crawled over to curl up next to his sister and cousin.

"Leena?"

"Hmm?"

"What does a queen have to do?"

"I dunno. I think I'm supposed to stand there and be inspiring or something."

"How you gonna do that?"

"I dunno."

A few minutes later Silas was fast asleep. Violet was dozing fitfully, but Khaleen found herself unable to sleep. She lay staring at the ceiling, while all the things she had been too anxious to think about finally found time to whirl through her head. Queen. Figurehead.  _Malekith's heir_. The sea of faces and the silent affirmation. The desperation that had seemed so out of place on Algrim's face when he had asked her. And above all, Kelly. Kelly, lying in his own blood. Kelly, who'd always known what to say. Kelly, who would have laughed off this whole situation with a sarcastic "Congratulations, Yer Majesty."

Khaleen didn't want to cry. She didn't want to wake up the others. In her sleep, Violet snuggled up and put her arm around her, like she had when she was little. Khaleen turned her face against her cousin's shoulder and cried herself to sleep.

Oblivion gave up its own, and Khaleen rose and floated on the brink of consciousness. She was lying in her own bed, in her room in the apartment in New York, staring at the ceiling. It was warm; she could feel Violet huddled on one side of her, Silas on the other. That was odd. They hadn't slept with her since they were little. Something nagged at her mind that that wasn't right, that something else was going on, but the thought slipped away as soon as she tried to grasp it.

Someone was moving in the next room. There was a faint clunking as kitchen utensils were shifted, and voices were carrying on a heated discussion in low tones. Khaleen rose, careful to make no noise; but as if the people in the next room had sensed her movement, the voices stopped.

"Leena?" The exaggerated sweetness failed to disguise the urgency in the woman's voice. Khaleen's unease turned to fear. "Leena, come out here. We need to talk. Get out here." There was an edge of anger in the voice, now. Khaleen didn't dare disobey.

The door opened and she saw the small kitchen table with the wilty flowers she had picked. Beyond it, a young man sat slumped against the wall. His presence shocked Khaleen; she had expected to see someone else. She moved around the table to get a better look. His shaggy white hair hung into his face and he had on a worn-out rock band t-shirt. His jeans ended in bloody tatters around his knees; no legs could be seen past that point. Beneath him, the floor was swimming in red.

The boy lifted his head, and his face was the color of wax. "Leena." His voice sounded far away. "Why'd you leave me?"

"No. Oh God, no. Kelly – " Khaleen covered her face. This couldn't be happening, he wasn't supposed to be here. Tears rolled down her face; she was shaking uncontrollably.  _Make it stop._   _Make it change!_

"Don't you make a sound. Don't you dare!" Khaleen turned; Maedh stood in the corner, her face wild and fearful – dangerous. She still held the bloody knife. "She came here because of you. Because of you! You breathe one word of this, they'll lock you up the same as me. You take this to your grave!" Her hand came down on Khaleen's shoulder, but Khaleen wrenched away. The room was spinning, it was all out of control…

With a start, she realized she had been dreaming. She lay in a strange bed, wedged between her cousins; one foot dangled over the edge and the cushion beneath her face was damp. She rolled over, trying to remember where she was, and blinked.

The dingy ceiling of the apartment was nowhere in sight. Instead, she found herself back in the lightless room on the Dark Elves' Ark. Dull red light from somewhere near the door lit the ceiling and the far wall; their arching shape gave Khaleen the impression that she was in the stomach of some giant animal.

She squeezed her eyes shut.  _Please go away._

It had never worked before; there was no reason for it to work now. Steeling herself, Khaleen forced herself to sit up and face the day.

She was wearing the survival suit from before, and her hair seemed to be still in its braids. She felt stiff and clammy from having slept in them, and her mouth tasted like cardboard and vinegar. Beside her, the others were still asleep. Silas lay on his side with an arm over his face, while Violet was curled peacefully on Khaleen's other side, her white hair spread around her in a graceful arc.

There was an enclosed toilet in this room – a vast improvement over the last one – but there was no water for washing. Khaleen searched high and low before giving up. Maedh had always said that immunity from disease was a hallmark of the elves; Khaleen dropped onto the edge of the second bunk and hoped it was true.

She was just beginning to wonder what they were supposed to do for breakfast when the door opened. It was Algrim.

"Greetings, Queen Khaleen." He bowed formally. "You slept well, I trust?"

Unwashed, unkempt, and uncomfortable, Khaleen didn't feel the least bit like a queen. She scowled back at the captain.

"Is there any way I can get a smoke?"

A blank stare was her only answer.

"Have you been able to wash yet?" Algrim asked.

"With what? There's no water."

Algrim sighed and glanced at Silas and Violet. Silas opened one eye, groaned, and threw both arms over his face.

"Food will be brought to you shortly," Algrim said briskly. "After that, I have arranged for several of the officers to instruct you in our ways and speech. It is imperative that you learn, as your current knowledge is sorely lacking."

"Oh, drop dead."

"I take my leave." He headed back toward the door.

"Hey!" Something had just occurred to Khaleen. "What time is it?"

"It is nearly the second watch." And with that, the door shut and Algrim was gone.

_Second watch?_  Khaleen mouthed. Silas rolled over.

"Well, that was a non-answer," he said. "You suppose that makes it morning?"

"Morning or midnight, it's time to get up." Khaleen got up and shook Violet awake. "We've got a long way to go today."

Breakfast was brought once again by one of the faceless guards. This time, when he set down the meal, Khaleen deftly stepped between him and the door.

"Hey you. Sprechen ze English?"

She could tell from the way he jumped that she had startled him.

"Where do I get washed up?" she demanded.

The guard held out his hands and shook his head. "Where…?"

"I'm dirty, want to wash. Get clean. Where to clean?"

"Oh!" The guard pointed to the bathroom in the back. Khaleen groaned.

"How?"

The guard cocked his head.

" _Jäärljy_ …1" He shrugged and headed back toward the door, beckoning them to follow.

Over the next fifteen minutes, the guard walked them through the amenities of their new home. Hands were washed using something like hand sanitizer, which apparently passed for showers, too. Water seemed to be reserved for drinking; if they wanted some, it had to be brought up. The door opened using a panel in the wall beside it. The lights could be controlled at another panel; their brightest setting was so dim that Silas muttered something about "going blind." If they ever needed anything, a com system near the door could connect them to… somewhere. Khaleen failed to grasp the guard's explanation. At last, content that they understood the basics, he made for the exit with a final statement that was probably meant as an encouragement.

"Wait," Khaleen called, and he stopped dutifully. "What's your name?"

" _Kir ar Domnovith._ " He tapped on his breastplate. "Domnovith."

"Domnovith," Khaleen repeated. She felt like she ought to be polite, since he had been so helpful. She held out a hand. "Good to meet you."

Domnovith's mask betrayed nothing, but Khaleen thought he seemed confused by the gesture. He certainly didn't shake her hand.

"Ah… Ok." She withdrew her hand sheepishly. Domnovith bowed, muttered what might have been an apology, and stood at attention.

"I think you're supposed to dismiss him," Violet whispered.

"Oh." Khaleen cleared her throat. "You – you can go now."

Domnovith bowed again and left.

"I like him," Violet said.

"You like everybody, Vi." Testing her new skills, Khaleen shut the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Jäärljy – how?


	7. Uathahi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: the chapter name, uathahi, means 'to remember information.'

Slowly, the trio began to settle in among the Dark Elves. Their eyes adjusted and they grew used to the constant darkness. They learned that a "day" on the Ark was divided into six watches, and that each watch was announced by a low, gong-like tone in the hallways. This, according to Silas, only added to the impression that they were on the set of  _Aliens_.

Two meals were served every day, one at the beginning of the second watch and one during the fourth. The menu was always the same: a large bowl of hot, soupy mush that tasted like soggy cornflakes, and a small bowl of what they finally decided was tea. At the second meal, there was also a ration of a strong, clear liquor like vodka; despite Silas's protests, Khaleen communicated to their attendants to stop bringing it. Their food was brought every day by one of the soldiers; sometimes Domnovith, but not always.

The instructors Algrim had appointed came every day after breakfast. At first, there may have been as many as four; with their uniforms and masks, it was next to impossible to tell them apart. Eventually, whether the number was pared down or not, Khaleen came to recognize two who spoke decent English and came day after day. The first was a brusque officer called Davitheen. He seemed to rank immediately below Algrim, and he had no qualms about smacking the heel of his hand into Khaleen's forehead if she made the same mistake twice. The second instructor was named Versang. He had a much kinder demeanor, especially toward Silas and Violet, and he answered their questions without judgment. His lessons were always more conversation than instruction. He was, he told them, the Ark's chief medic and surgeon. He was also the first person after Algrim to take off his mask in front of them. The sight of another face lifted Khaleen's spirits for days; she hadn't realized how hard it had become, addressing the same blank expression no matter who she spoke to. Versang's friendship, as she quickly came to view it, was the one bright spot in their new lives, and they came to depend on him.

Something in their heritage lent Khaleen and her cousins a resilience to the darkness; however, they had been born and brought up in the sunlight, and they found the gloom oppressive. There was another kind of gloom that hung about the place as well. Of those crew that they met, all were polite and some were even friendly; but there was a joylessness about them, and they seemed to move through their actions by rote. At times, Khaleen had the unnerving sense that they moved through the corridors not as living beings, but as the shades of something long dead and forgotten.

The dismal atmosphere was worst at the end of the day, when it was hard to fall asleep, and at the beginning, when it was hard to wake up; but in between, there was little time to think about it. Over half of their waking hours were taken up with lessons. These consisted of  _aisith_ , or language, and  _jääridheen_ , which meant the laws and customs of the  _älfeneel_. After the main lessons were over, Silas and Violet were free to do as they pleased, even to wander the ship. The separation made Khaleen anxious to the point of panic until Versang assured her that they would be looked after.

"Everyone knows who they are," he had explained. "The crew will allow no harm to come to them."

For Khaleen, the instruction didn't end when her cousins left. As queen, it was important that she knew everything that had happened to her people, everything that was currently happening, and everything that might happen in the future; but to understand all of this, she first had to be able to speak their language. Khaleen had heard bits of it spoken at home as a child, but beyond "yes," "no," and the first ten numbers, her vocabulary was nonexistent. Davitheen and Versang drilled her on it relentlessly; but with each successive dialog, she felt like she knew less.

In the meantime, Algrim seemed to have disappeared. When Khaleen finally got up the courage to ask, Versang told her that he was following her progress through his and Davitheen's reports, and that circumstances dictated that he was too busy to come himself. That, she decided, was fine. She was struggling already; she didn't need his disapproving glare on top of everything else.

Two weeks after the coronation, this changed. It was towards the end on the second watch, what Khaleen still viewed as late morning. Silas and Violet were out; Davitheen had ended lessons early that day, throwing up his hands at Khaleen's lack of progress and instructing her not to send for him again until she could do so in Shivaisith. When she looked up and saw the captain in her doorway, her first thought was that Davitheen had reported her.

" _Äshlimär,_ " Algrim greeted her; that at least she understood. "May I enter?"

"Sure." If he was looking for a reason to throw her and her cousins off the Ark, Khaleen wasn't going to encourage him with a bad attitude. Algrim stepped inside.

"I've come to inquire after your health." The way he said it sounded polite and formal. Khaleen was tempted to give him an honest answer, just to be done with the stupid pretences, but her cousins' housing currently depended on her behavior.

"I'm fine," she lied. "Where have you been?" It sounded more accusatory than she had intended and she braced for the explosion.

"Forgive me." If Algrim took offence, he didn't show it. "There was much to attend to; we lost many men and the ship required maintenance."

"Oh." For a long moment neither spoke. Algrim took in Khaleen's appearance and his mouth twitched toward a frown. She had just enough energy to feel self-conscious; her hair hadn't been washed for days, and the braids were crooked and frayed from sleeping in them. She had given up wearing the tabard and cloak from her coronation, and they lay crumpled in the corner where she had dropped them. She half expected a lecture from Algrim; it would have been easier to bear than his quiet dignity.

_This is ridiculous,_  Khaleen thought bitterly.  _He should be the king, not me._  To her surprise, Algrim walked to the corner, picked up the wadded tabard, and began to fold it.

"It surprises me that you are not at your lessons," he said.

"Yeah, well… Davitheen said we didn't need it today."

"Hm." He was too polite to tell her that she wasn't fooling anyone. "I hear your cousins are making admirable progress."

"Yeah. They're gifted like that."  _What's he gonna do when he realizes he made the stupid one the queen?_

Algrim finished folding her cloak and placed it and the tabard in the bedding cupboard.

"I have some things you ought to have," he said. "I would have brought them sooner, but I was otherwise engaged…"

He reached into the folds of his cloak and drew out a small bundle wrapped in black cloth, which he held out to her. Khaleen took it and pulled back the wrapping; inside were a wickedly curved knife and about twenty fragile-looking cards.

"Malekith's log, and one of his knives," Algrim explained. He pointed to a card that looked sturdier than the rest. "This is the door code to his quarters. Hold it to the panel outside and it will allow you entry. No one has entered since last he left them."

Khaleen stared at the items in her hand. "What happened to him?"

Algrim closed his eyes for a moment, then stood up even taller. "He gave his life in the service of his people, to buy them a better future." There was a hollow note in his voice.

"It didn't work, did it?" Khaleen realized aloud. Algrim flinched like he'd been stabbed. "He was your friend, wasn't he?"

Pride and pain were written across Algrim's face as he regarded her. "Yes," he said quietly. The silence that followed did not seem awkward.

"I'm sorry," said Khaleen at last. The captain managed an curt nod.

"You will find more books and recordings in Malekith's quarters, if you like to read. I think you will find them interesting." He turned to go, but hesitated in the door. "You take his place now, as queen. What was his now belongs to you."

* * *

Khaleen didn't immediately set out for her predecessor's quarters. Instead, she took the time to wash and comb her hair. She couldn't braid it herself, so while she waited for her cousins to return, she did her best to put the room in order. By the time Violet came through the door, Khaleen was sitting on the bed, wearing her tabard, and going through the language notes Davitheen had left.

"Oh, hey Vi. Do you have time to do my hair?"

"Sure." Violet look a little surprised. "You're dressed up today."

"Well, I'm going out and I don't want to make you look bad." Violet had taken to braiding her hair and wearing a drapey white dress over her survival suit; she looked like an angel in the darkness.

"Where are you going?"

"Algrim gave me the key to Malekith's old rooms. Do you have any idea where those are?"

"This level, two doors down. Versang told me. The first door's access to some kind of electrical panel; don't go in there. I saw Silas and some of the engineers working on it the other day." She finished the last braid and Khaleen stood up. With her tight, militaristic braids and dark colored clothing, she was a stark contrast to Violet's snowy grace. She picked up the knife and the recording cards and tucked them into her belt.

"I'll try to be back before supper. Let Silas know, if you see him."

It was only a few yards from Khaleen's door to Malekith's. Outside, she pulled out the key card and paused. She'd heard all kinds of stories about him now, good and bad; now it was time, in a way, to meet him herself. She held the key to the door panel as Algrim had instructed. The mechanism clicked, the door slid open, and she stepped inside.

Malekith's cabin was dark and sparsely furnished, like the rest of the ship. Its previous tenant seemed to have left in a hurry; a half-empty bowl of stale tea still sat out, with a comb and a whetstone beside it. The back wall had a matte look to it; on closer inspection, Khaleen saw that it was hung with a tapestry done in black and red.

_Must be cheery colors to Dark Elves_ , she thought, staring wryly at the piece.

Having grown up hearing Maedh talk about the terrible weapons of the Dark Elves, Khaleen was nervous at first about what she might find. But the most actively dangerous thing in the room seemed to be the mattress; loosely rolled and jammed haphazardly into its cupboard, it nearly collapsed on her when she opened the door. There were a number of daggers and one sword in various places, all sheathed and carefully stowed, and on one wall a series of inset shelves housed boxes of recording cards and a reader. Khaleen took the reader to the table; too nervous to read Malekith's log, she placed a randomly selected card on it and turned it on.

Khaleen had picked up just enough of Davitheen's instructions to be able to read Todjydheenil, the complex Shivaisith script. The way it was arranged in the hologram seemed odd; after staring at it for several minutes, she realized that it was poetry. The next volume appeared to be a technical manual of some sort; it was full of painstakingly accurate drawings of machines Khaleen had never seen before. Another held row after row of prose. By now she felt confident enough to attempt reading it.

_On the Nature of Breath._

_Of what substance comes the soul? There is no argument in the minds of the wise that we are creatures of a dual nature: a soul and a body, entwined as closely as…_

At that point Khaleen gave up trying to pry meaning out of the text. It was clearly philosophy; she put it back and placed a card from Malekith's log onto the reader.

_The 57_ _th_ _day of the 5274_ _th_ _year of our exile._

_On this day I remember the nameday of Nishö, my firstborn, and the death of Jaashlen, Aether-keeper and friend, who gave her life for the betterment of our people._

_The Convergence returns. Our slumber is broken now at last…_


	8. Lyshihi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyshyhi - to remember a person or event.

"Leena… Leeeennnaaa…"

"Here, let me try – Hellooo, anybody in there?"

Silas's face filled her entire field of vision. Khaleen yelled and toppled backward off her seat.

"Silas! That's not what I meant!" Violet cried over her brother's laughter.

"Hilarious," muttered Khaleen.

It had been a week since Khaleen had entered her predecessor's rooms. She had spent most of the previous day there, and had come back late at night. To avoid disturbing her cousins' sleep, she had set up the reader on the other side of the room and fallen asleep there with her head on her arm.

"What were you reading?" Violet asked. The reader was still active.

"History," Khaleen muttered, but before she could turn the reader off, Silas pulled it away.

"Where's that?" He pointed to a map in the ghostly white hologram. "Is that Earth?"

"No, it's Harudheen." She indicated the cities marked on the map. "I don't think most of those places exist anymore."

"I wonder what happened to all of the them," Violet said.

"I'm still working it out," Khaleen replied.

The truth was that after a week spent almost exclusively reading, she had a pretty good idea what had happened; what she was still working out was what to think of it. Muddling through history books had given her the background; as her reading ability increased, dutiful attention was replaced by real interest in the Dark Elves' lore. Then there was Malekith's log, which seemed to pick up where the history books left off. She wasn't sure if Algrim had given her the cards out of order or if she'd accidently jumbled them after the fact, but she had realized that she wasn't reading them correctly. Everything was dated, so it hadn't been that hard to sort out. By now she thought she had them mostly in the right order.

Khaleen cleared away the reader and cards and went to the bathroom to straighten up. She was in the process of washing the sleep out of her eyes when she heard the door open. It was Domnovith with the morning meal. She stepped out just as he was turning to go.

"Ruushuudhith, Domnovith," she called. "Äshlimär!"

The man turned back in surprise. Khaleen rarely spoke to anyone, let alone in Shivaisith. He returned the greeting.

"Let me see your face when we're speaking," Khaleen requested in the same language; then, fearing it might be somehow improper, she tried to explain. "It feels… not good, speaking to someone I can't see. Like… through a wall." She was stumbling over the words; she hoped her meaning was clear enough.

Obligingly, Domnovith raised a hand and lifted his mask. He was pale beneath it, paler even than Versang, and his eyes were frighteningly black in his face. A month ago, Khaleen would have cringed at the sight; now she didn't so much as bat an eye.

"Ruushuudhith," she thanked him again. "It is good to see your face at last."

Domnovith's lips twitched and broke into a crooked smile that reached his eyes. He looks like Kelly, she realized. The thought brought her less pain than she had expected.

"With your permission, I take my leave," Domnovith said. When Khaleen nodded, he replaced his mask, bowed, and left.

"Hey, you're getting better," said Violet. "I think even Davitheen would be impressed."

"Pphthbt," Khaleen replied. "C'mon, let's eat. I got stuff to do today."

Breakfast was over fast – the ubiquitous gruel wasn't so bad if you swallowed it quickly and tried not to dwell on the texture. Then Khaleen was out the door like a shot. Past Malekith's rooms, down the hall, to the left… It was a while since she'd been down this way; she would have to rely on the crew for directions if her own sense failed her. She knew where she wanted to go, at least. Today she was after some concrete answers, and she wasn't going to let up until she had them.

Algrim had to admit, he was surprised to see Khaleen standing there in his door. Then again, she'd been full of surprises these past few days: braiding her hair, voluntarily leaving her room, speaking Shivaisith – albeit halting and broken. Most surprising had been the interest she'd shown in her predecessor's books. Given Davitheen's reports, Algrim hadn't expected much from her in that regard; but perhaps it had been the incentive she needed. Several times he'd found the door to Malekith's rooms open, and each time she'd been in there, staring obsessively at the little text holograms, so entranced she didn't notice him. She had noticed when he'd come to her own room, though, and that time she'd been armed with a barrage of questions. How's this word pronounced? What does this mean? This guy mentioned here, is he the same as this other one? Thrown in over her head, she was unexpectedly learning to swim.

"Äshlimär, my queen." He rose politely. "What may I do for you?"

Khaleen strode in, a woman on a mission. She set her little reader on the table.

"Algrim, I need to know what happened to Harudheen."

The captain winced. She didn't waste time, that was for sure.

"Your reading has not reached the point of uncovering it…?"

"Oh, it's reached the point, it's just been very vague." Algrim didn't immediately answer; she scowled in his direction. "I know Harudheen used to be a big deal. I saw the maps. But then something happened, didn't it? A lot of people died, and you can't go back there. At least, that's what Malekith seems to be saying in the log. And then you guys went and hibernated for some obscene amount of time, and when you woke up you immediately picked a fight with – " She waved her hand in the air, searching for the word.

"Asgard," he corrected automatically.

"Whatever. You picked a fight with them, and it spilled over onto Earth – Midgard."

"Malekith mentioned the battle on Midgard?"

"No, but Silas did. He swears he saw you guys on TV, in some foreign city."

"I could not tell you which one. All Midgardian cities look the same."

"But you were there." She sounded triumphant. "So, tell me – what happened to Harudheen? Why are you picking fights when you're so clearly outnumbered? What is going on? And what is the Aether? Malekith drops references to it like party favors, but I can't figure out why."

Algrim had the unpleasant feeling of finding himself backed into a corner. Khaleen was glaring at him, waiting for an answer. Tell her, he thought. She deserves to know. Even if she weren't Malekith's heir, she deserves to know what happened to her people.

"The Aether was the source of our power. And as for Harudheen – it was destroyed."

"I got that. How was it destroyed? What happened? All the literature builds and builds, and then it just cuts off. And Malekith doesn't say much about it, just that something happened. Was it an asteroid? The sun blew up? What?"

"Asgard," Algrim spat the word like a foul taste. "It was Asgard."

"Asgard?" Khaleen seemed to process for a moment. When Algrim didn't immediately answer, she continued."That Thor guy's from there. He's shown up a couple of times on Earth; everybody seems to think he's friendly. What did they do, just drop by one day and blow the place up? Come on, man, quit holding out on me."

Algrim was torn between a desire to throw the girl bodily out the door, and a charmed pride at the interest she was taking. He sighed and motioned to the seats around the table.

"Sit."

Khaleen wrinkled her nose and took a seat. Algrim hit the com to the quartermaster to request a ration of white liquor before joining her.

"Come on, tell me," Khaleen urged. "Start at the beginning."

"The beginning was a long time ago."

"Then start with the important parts."

Algrim shut his eyes and rubbed at his temples. "Harudheen was destroyed by Asgard. They attacked us like cowards, taking us unawares and destroying our world and everyone unfortunate enough to be on it. Which was most of us."

Khaleen chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Asgard bailed out Earth last year. Most people think they're too nice to just attack somebody." When Algrim didn't answer, she pressed on. "You said everybody on Harudheen was killed. Well, you're alive, so you obviously weren't there. Where were you? There was a colony mentioned. Did you guys take over a planet or something? Is that what ticked off Asgard?"

"Asgard didn't need a reason to become murderers. They couldn't stomach the thought of someone mightier than themselves." He met Khaleen's eyes. She was staring keenly at him, measuring every word he said. He decided to back up. "Yes, there was a colony. We were a great people; our world was too small for us, and the universe beckoned. And why not? If we have done well at home, why should we not seek other worlds to tend, and reap their benefits? We were the oldest of the peoples and the richest in learning; why should we not extend that to the barbarian peoples? They said we were thirsty only for blood, but they lied. We wished to drive out the wild creatures of the day, to spread out night and peace and make the worlds safe for our children. We were guilty only of wishing to make the universe a better place, and we suffered the consequences."

At that moment a guard arrived with a flask and bowls. Algrim poured himself a portion and swallowed it. Khaleen stared thoughtfully at the table.

"So this 'Aether' thing. You guys were using that to – Malekith used the word 'change' – planets?"

"Yes. That was how we prepared a world for our settlers." Algrim realized that he was fiddling with his drinking bowl. He put it carefully down on the table. "It only worked once. When Asgard saw what we had done, they moved in the moment we turned our backs and destroyed it."

"Destroyed…?"

"The entire planet with its garrison." Algrim's voice sounded heavy and flat in his ears. "There was nothing but a cloud of rubble when we saw it next."

Khaleen's mouth fell open. Her eyes travelled down to her hands in her lap. "Jaashlen."

Algrim looked up at the familiar name. Khaleen met his eyes.

"So… that was how she died. They killed her."

"No. Not Jaashlen. She was gone before ever Asgard looked to that world. She was an Aether-keeper," he said in answer to Khaleen's confused look. "Accursed."

"Accursed?"

"…'Marked to die.'" He fumbled for an explanation. "To wield the Aether in all its power is something no one can do and live. It consumes its host. Jaashlen knew this when she stepped forward; her sacrifice was to be for the good of her people. It was the same with Malekith."

"Malekith was an Aether-keeper?"

"Yes. There were three. Only two ever took the Aether into themselves to wield, and they…failed."

"Jaashlen and …"

"And Malekith. Vanshel was the third. He fell defending the Aether the first time Asgard tried to seize it."

"I thought Malekith was the king."

"He was not expected to be. When he stepped forward as an Aether-keeper, it was believed that one of his sons would assume Kitharn's throne when the time came."

"But then Asgard hit Harudheen and…."

Algrim nodded; he had momentarily lost his voice. He could still see them – huddled together in a corner of their ruined home, faces burned almost beyond recognition. Malekith's bereaved howl rang in his ears – he himself had been mute. He took a deep breath and realized that Khaleen had gotten up and was standing next to him, leaning on the table.

"I guess if Malekith was your friend, you must have been close to the family."

"She was my sister." He couldn't quite keep his voice from breaking.

"She…?"

"Tjeshel. The wife of Malekith. She was my sister." Without looking up, he felt her fidget, unsure of how to respond.

"I'm sorry," she said at last. "Believe me, I know how you feel."

Algrim met her eyes – a child's eyes, still pale-rimmed. He wanted to rage at her; how dare she presume to comfort him? She could never understand! But there was no presumption in her face, only the memory of a lost brother, and beyond that, more family than he had guessed. He bowed his head and his anger died.


	9. Breakdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to my sister for providing the poetry at the start of this chapter. Verse is her specialty, not mine.

_It is thus:_

_Like the wind, can you seek from whence it comes?_

_Like the sun, can you call its warmth to you?_

_Like the tides, can you control each rising and falling?_

_Can you find it thus, like a beast among the heather?_

_Can you tame it, but like a wild bird it will stop singing?_

_It is more beautiful that it is free,_

_Unstoppable, untamable, unsearchable._

Khaleen had discovered that she liked Dark Elvish poetry. She still couldn't say that she understood most of it; but the sing-songy cadence had a calming, centering quality that tomes of history did not. Khaleen had found this particular volume her first day in the library. She now sat in Malekith's quarters, with her feet on the table and the reader perched on her chest so that the hologram text hovered more or less directly overhead.

She had lost sleep over the previous day's conversation with Algrim. It had taken him a long time to recover his voice, but eventually, aided by frequent doses of white liquor, he had explained the remaining history of the Dark Elves, up through the last few months. Khaleen still wasn't sure she understood the details, but one thing had been clear: one of their targets had been the Earth.

He had used the word "kevethidheen." Khaleen had never heard the word before, but from the context, she guessed that it was the same as Maedh's Convergence.  _When Malekith and his conquering armies will return,_  she remembered bitterly, _and his allies will get revenge on their oppressors._  Except Algrim hadn't mentioned allies, or any expectation of finding any. Their sole intention had been to deploy the Aether on Midard, transforming it – and possibly other planets – to make them inhabitable for Dark Elves. There was not the slightest thought given for the current occupants of those worlds; for Midgard, it would have been a holocaust.

_You got to bed street trash, you wake up the heir to the evil empire._  Khaleen sighed. Had the Dark Eves found her under any other circumstances, they would have killed her without a care. That wasn't really what bothered her; she had already concluded that she and her cousins were out of danger. The only thing she had to think about was the next move, and it bothered her that she had no idea what that was.

Tilting her head back, she could just see the red and black swirls of Malekith's ugly tapestry. They wanted to fight, she knew, even now. Was it really that crazy? Her mind wandered over the lost families: Tjeshel and Nishö and so many, many others. And she thought of Kelly and of blood and brimstone and running away.  _I wanted to fight. Why couldn't I fight then? I always fought for you!_  When she was six, she had punched a schoolyard bully for tormenting her brother. She had remained defiant until her father picked her up that afternoon.

_"Khaleen…"_ His voice had been gentle; Ryan Donovan never shouted when he was angry.  _"We never hit someone because of what they said to us."_

_"But he teased Kelly! It's not fair!"_

_"No. You're right. It isn't fair. Giving someone bad for bad, that's fair."_  She remembered looking in his eyes; her father had very brown eyes.  _"But you and me, we can do better than fair."_

Khaleen closed her eyes. She was tired, and the rhythm of the poetry was soothing. She was beginning to doze off when the concussion hit.

_Wham_. A vibration travelling the length of the ship threw Khaleen out of her seat. The reader hit the ground and shut off. Khaleen scrambled to her feet; she had the odd sensation that the floor was at the wrong angle. The walls were still vibrating. Outside, alarms screeched and red and white lights blinked on and off. She staggered to the door and was nearly run down by two crewmen.

"What's going on?" she shouted after them. The response, shouted back over their shoulders, was lost on her.

_Find Silas and Vi._  No, she didn't even know where they might be, and what could she do for them in the depths of space? She needed information.  _Find Algrim, then._

Holding onto the bulkheads for support, she started down the hallway. The bridge was on this level; she had been there once before. It was a narrow room, open to the central chamber of the ship on one side, with multiple holographic displays and a large, dark mirror for observing the stars outside. Right now it was a hive of activity. People stood by various instruments, calling out reports and relaying orders. In the middle of everything stood Algrim, coolly listening and responding to a dozen things at once. In front of him, the largest projector showed a diagram of the Ark, sections highlighted in red. Khaleen stared. She had never really had a good idea of what the ship looked like from the outside.

The sound of frenzied activity in the central chamber reached them. The vibrating stopped, and the floor seemed to right itself. As the chaos subsided, the crew's rapid-fire speech slowed enough for Khaleen to understand.

"Levels 5 and 13 sealed off. Possible hull breach."

"Possible damage to harrows 2 and 3."

"Life support stabilizing, gravitational fields restored to kilter."

"Casualties on tier 4. Medical teams responding."

The red outlining faded from the ship display. Algrim let out the breath he had been holding in, then turned and noticed Khaleen for the first time.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. Khaleen pushed herself out of her corner and stood up straight.

"I'm the queen. What's your excuse?" She took a few steps into the bridge. "What just happened? Did we get attacked?"

Algrim shook his head. "Coolant conduit failed. It nearly caused an engine overload."

"Meaning…?"

"The Ark could have blown up." The offhand way he said it was nearly as unsettling as the thought itself. Ignoring Khaleen's stunned expression, he turned to one of the officers. "Any reports on those casualties?"

"At least two injured, no word on severity." The captain frowned.

"Wait – like 'people got hurt' casualties?" Khaleen demanded.

"We don't know the extent of it yet," Algrim said. "As bad as the incident was – Hey! Where are you going?"

Khaleen was already flying down the hall. She didn't know what sort of injuries a "coolant conduit failure" might cause, but she knew that Silas spent most of his time these days on the engineering decks, where the danger was likely to have been the greatest. Trying to force down the horrifying scenes her imagination had conjured, she turned a corner and entered the infirmary.

The level of activity in the infirmary was on par with that of the bridge a few moments ago, with Versang in the midst of it giving orders. There were three injured crewmen: two already in exam chairs, and one who had just been brought in, supported by his comrades. Khaleen spotted Violet immediately, holding a tray of instruments while one of the surgeons treated a burn on a crewman's arm. A moment later she spotted Silas as well – uninjured, to her relief. He and one of the engineers were holding the hands of a third man, while the surgeon probed a deep wound he had received.

"Can I help you, my queen?" Versang asked briskly. Khaleen started.

"I was just checking – Is everyone gonna be okay?"

"No one's injuries seem to be life-threatening. Only three men were hurt in the explosion."

_Explosion?!_  Well, that would explain the shock wave earlier. "Versang, what the hell –"

"Forgive me, my queen, I must attend to this." He turned back to the fray. "Oh, I may have to keep Violet later than usual."

"Sure, whatever you say…" The surgeon didn't wait long enough to hear Khaleen's mumbled reply. She took another glance around. Violet was still busy helping care for the burned man; she stood by his head, holding his arm down so the surgeon could work. The wounded elf had removed his mask and was glaring at her with unbridled mistrust. Violet continued to speak gently in his ear while the surgeon worked; she didn't seem to notice her patient's hostility.

_No, she notices all right, she's just not going to let it stop her._  The thought gave Khaleen pause. Across the room, the other surgeon had finished cleaning his patient's wounds and was busy shooing Silas and his companion out of the way. Khaleen decided it was time to leave with them.

* * *

For the rest of the day the Ark was alive with activity, and Khaleen seemed to be the only one without a task. Silas was busy helping the engineers, and Violet was in the infirmary; Khaleen thought that if she went to the bridge, maybe they'd find something for her to do. But after a couple of hours mainly spent getting in the way, she gave up. Now she slouched against the wall outside the captain's quarters, waiting impatiently for Algrim to return. She was on the verge of giving up again when she heard footsteps in the corridor. Algrim paused when he saw her.

" _Äshlimär_." He looked tired.

" _Äshlimär,_ " Khaleen replied. "Were you able to get it fixed? Is the Ark gonna blow up?"

"If the Ark were going to blow up, it would have done so by now." He entered his quarters and took off his headpiece. "I knew something like this would happen. If I had only known when and where, it might have been prevented…"

"Whoa, wait, you knew this was going to happen?"

"It was inevitable. This ship is old, even for its kind, and the materials we need for repairs are hard to come by. Not to mention we're undermanned."

Khaleen thought about this for a moment. "Shit. What else is falling apart?"

"Much," Algrim sighed. "You needn't concern yourself with it." He started to turn away.

"Excuse me?!" It took Khaleen a moment to register what he had just said. "The Ark almost blew up under us, three guys are in the sick bay, and you try to say it doesn't concern me? I kinda think it does! You should have told me before when you thought something was wrong."

"And what would you have done?" Algrim asked wearily.

"I don't know – "

"Exactly." He shook his head. "Return to your reading, my lady." His kind tone did not make it any less a dismissal. Khaleen's temper flashed to steam.

"Don't give me that!" She snarled, slapping away the hand he put out to usher her to the door. "You brought me here, you made me queen – you can't just tell me to sit in a library and twiddle my thumbs while we're all on the verge of dying!" Her voice had risen in volume. Algrim's mouth was open slightly; he seemed genuinely shocked by her outburst.

"And what could you do, if I told you? You know nothing of running an Ark."

"A month ago I couldn't speak Shivaisith. Try me."

"And trust you with the lives of the crew? You, who can't even protect your own family?"

Malekith's knife was in Khaleen's hand before she could even think. She slammed the point down into the table.

"At least most of mine are still alive!" she shouted. "I've done a lot better by them than you have by yours!" She swung her arm, indicating the crew at large.

Algrim stared at her, wide-eyed and speechless with anger. Khaleen didn't budge.

"You want somebody to fill Malekith's shoes, then you damn well better be ready to step up and let me do it." She wrenched her knife free and jabbed a finger at the captain. "You give me the facts, you let me do my job, or you drop me off at the next port and find another heir to the throne." And with that, she turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving Algrim stunned and furious in her wake.


	10. Updates

Khaleen decided not to tell Silas and Violet about the argument. If she was going to get expelled from the ship, and she strongly suspected that she would, she could at least avoid getting them caught up with her. They were cooperative and helpful; the Ark needed people like them. But the opportunity to talk to them never presented itself. Silas stumbled back to the room late and was asleep before his head hit the mat, and Violet appeared after him, staying only long enough to wash and inform her cousin that she would be spending the "night" at the infirmary. So when the next day began, the only one who knew about her argument with Algrim, she believed, was Algrim.

It was around the middle of the second watch. Khaleen was alone in her cousins' room when she heard footsteps in the hall. A moment later there was a tap on the door.

"Enter," she called.

She rose to her feet as Algrim stepped in, followed by three officers: Davitheen, Versang, and another she didn't recognize.

Khaleen vaguely remembered a story her father had told, about a Roman emperor who was stabbed to death by his own senators. This, she realized, must have been how he felt. She braced herself, wondering if she'd have time to ask them to let her cousins stay on. Algrim cleared his throat.

"Khaleen, allow me to introduce to you Hodhshi, chief of engineering. I believe you already know Davitheen and Versang." Khaleen nodded, wondering when the blow was going to come. "Hodhshi will be advising you on the technical matters of the Ark, Versang on the health of the crew, and Davitheen – "

"Whoa, wait. What is this?"

"Daily report," Algrim replied. "You requested to be kept informed, I believe."

"Ah– yes, I did."

"Very well then. Your officers will attend you and bring you up to date every day at this time." Khaleen nodded and made a mental note to have the place tidier next time. Algrim continued. "I… gave some thought to what you said and have come to understand that you were correct. We were wrong not to begin these reports earlier." The captain looked a little sour and met her eye reluctantly. She wondered who had strong-armed him into apologizing.

Formalities done, Hodhshi stepped forward to begin his report. He left his mask in place; in fact, all the officers but Algrim were masked. Khaleen didn't ask him to remove it when he spoke; they seemed to be following some kind of protocol of which she was only dimly aware. As the engineer began, Khaleen was nearly bowled over by the stream of technical terms and jargon. Some of it she recognized, but not nearly enough to understand what he was talking about. Finally, he stopped.

"Do you have any further questions, my queen?"

"Uh." Khaleen struggled to collect herself. "Ok, just to recap. What happened yesterday, the… coolant failure…"

"The failure of a coolant vessel in the reactor drive core."

"That. Yes. Is that something that's likely to happen again?"

"No. We slowed the drive core and have been making repairs to the coolant vessels."

"No, I mean, are there other weak spots, not just in the coolant? Other places where we might have a problem in the future?"

"Well – yes." He began to list off the things that might fail. "The landing mechanisms were damaged in the battle, as was maneuvering. There's hull damage on multiple levels, the gravity drive has been under a great deal of strain, air circulators need to be checked, as should the main reactor containment vessel…" The list went on. Khaleen glanced at Algrim; he seemed to be trying hard to keep his expression neutral.

"So, what do you need? What can I get you?"

Hodhshi shrugged. "Therium-steel alloy, hull plating, and a beryllium ion engine core. And about a thousand more personnel."

Khaleen had no idea what half those things were. "I'll see what I can do."

Next Versang stepped forward. It was much easier to understand him; Khaleen guessed that he was consciously toning down the technical jargon for her. Of the three injured crewmen, one had been released. The other two were in stable condition; Versang was keeping them under observation, but hoped to release them that day.

"Violet has proven herself these past few days," he added. "With your permission, I'd like to begin her formal training as a surgical assistant. Perhaps eventually we can even train her as a surgeon in her own right." Khaleen swelled a little with pride.

Last of all Davitheen stepped up. His report concerned the state of the crew and the current mission. Morale, it seemed, was running low; Khaleen had expected that. But when he stated that the temporary loss of the crewmen in the infirmary had interfered with the running of the ship's vital functions, she stopped him.

"Wait – so two guys go down and suddenly we're having problems with basic maintenance?"

"We are severely short-handed. Two men is a significant portion of the crew."

"How many are we supposed to have?"

Davitheen cocked his head. With his mask in place, it was impossible to make out his expression.

"Originally this Ark was manned by a crew of three thousand, plus eight hundred shock troops, although it could have held more. Currently, we're down to one hundred and three men, mostly engineers, medics, supply and maintenance…"

Khaleen gave a start. "Wait – a hundred guys left of three thousand? How are we still in the air? Or – whatever…"

Davitheen continued. "Ordinarily we could run an Ark with as few as fifteen men; however, damage from our recent battles must be repaired, and of course the maintenance needs of a ship this old are immense." Hodhshi nodded. Khaleen stared at the floor, trying to wrap her mind around what they were telling her.

"But it lasted this long…" she started.

"Well, yes," said Hodhshi. "While we were in stasis, most of the atmosphere was vented and we were in zero gravity. That preserves most components. But we were still adrift for almost a full cycle of the Kevethidheen, and when we awoke, we were… rushed," he ended lamely.

"We weren't supposed to need it this long anyway," Versang began, but then stopped. Davitheen bristled at him; everyone else's shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. Algrim was the first to break the silence.

"It matters not." His look of unflappable calm was back. "We will do what is necessary to endure."

"Do we have what it takes?" Khaleen cut in.

"We will find a way." The determination in the commander's eyes might have cut a hole straight through her. Davitheen glanced between them.

"We've reassigned as many men as possible, and on-duty hours have been increased. Beyond that, what can be done, already has."

"The Commander is right," Versang added. "We hold on, we continue the mission."

"What is the mission?"

"To remain alive." Algrim answered. "To continue as long as possible, so that our kind will not die out." The others nodded gravely.

"My report is concluded," Davitheen said. "Have you any further questions?"

"Not now." Khaleen's head was spinning from the volume of information. Algrim dismissed the others. When they were gone he turned and regarded Khaleen coolly. She took a breath and blew it out.

"Some mission."

"And what would you do differently, Khaleen?"

She opened her mouth to respond, shut it, raised a hand, lowered it, turned away, turned back, puffed out her cheeks, and scowled. Then she pointed at Algrim.

"Tell Hodhshi I want a tour of engineering later today. Third watch, fourth, even – whatever time works for him. I want to see what's going on for myself." She stepped around him and headed for the door.

"And where will you be until then?" he demanded. She didn't turn back.

"In Malekith's library, learning engines."

* * *

Perhaps an hour and a half after the meeting, Algrim entered Malekith's old quarters to inform the queen that he had arranged her engineering tour. She was, as expected, sitting at the table, staring at a technical volume that he would have sworn was entirely above her level. She looked up when he entered.

"Oh, hey, it's you. Did you get that thing with Hodhshi set up?"

"Yes. Fourth hour, third watch. He'll send someone up to escort you."

"Tell him not to bother. I'll meet him on Stasis Deck 3. That's fairly close to engineering."

Algrim wondered where she'd learned that. "I'll see that he's informed."

"Oh – and when you get the chance, I need a report from Davitheen on people's schedules: who's doing what when, for how long, that kind of thing. And what their original specialty was." Algrim nodded. "And I need information on the Ark. Blueprints, schematics, the owner's manual – whatever you got. And anything you've got that has, you know, definitions of technical terms."

"Schematics of the  _Malekithas Heedra._  Very well." He turned to go. Khaleen pivoted in her seat.

"The what?"

"The  _Malekithas Heedra._  This Ark."

"I thought it was called the Ark."

"It is. That's the name of this particular Ark, because it was his flagship."

" _The Might of Malekith._ " Khaleen frowned. "Wait, he named his ship after himself?"

"No. It's my Ark, and I named it after him when it became his flagship. I thought it would be a fitting tribute."

"Ah." Khaleen seemed to accept this. She turned back and was instantly engrossed in her reading again. Algrim stood for a moment and stared at her.

"What would you know?" He thought that his low tone and her focus on her book would preclude a reply; when she answered he was already half-turned.

"I hot-wired a car once, when we had to get Vi to the doctor." She was still staring at the screen. Algrim wasn't sure what she meant, but he guessed from her tone that it had been some drastic and complicated action.

"You really think you're going to help us?" he asked again.

"Don't know how yet, but I'm a quick study when my life depends on it." She sighed and turned away from her book. "Hey, look – I know you don't like me, and I know I don't look like much. But we're all we've got right now. You and me, we're gonna have to work together or we aren't gonna get anything done." She stood up. "So – deal?"

Algrim accepted the offered hand. "Very well."

"Sorry I knifed your table."

"I was informed that I deserved it." He turned to go. "Let me know if you find a course of action that I missed."

Khaleen was already back at her reading. "I will."


	11. The New Mission

"Silas! Just the guy I wanted to see."

The boy looked up. He had one glove off and machine oil streaked up the side of his face. "Leena? What are you doing here?"

"Hodhshi was giving me a tour." Khaleen forced a smile. Silas stared at her, and her expression grew somber. "Hey, I need to talk to you. You got a second?"

"Sure." He led the way to an alcove out on the main lines of traffic. At the back a man crouched with a welding torch; when he saw them enter, he stood to go, but Silas stopped him.

"Khaleen, this is Jazal. He's one of the senior machine techs. Whenever Hodhshi wants something done, Jazal is the one that makes it happen. He's been working with me," he added, "teaching me engines and stuff."

" _Vorthih_ ," the man bowed. "Your kinsman is a quick student. I must be careful, or Hodhshi will give him my position." His face was hidden, but there was a smile in his voice.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Silas asked.

"I'm trying to figure out what to do. I've been talking to the officers – I get that things are pretty bad now, but…"

"…But you want a second opinion?" Silas glanced at Jazal.

"I guess – Yeah. I don't understand most of what Hodhshi's been telling me."

"He's like that," Jazal said. "He's a good man, a good engineer. He just needs a translator, sometimes."

"He needs a lot of things, and I have to figure out how to get them. I need ideas, guys, suggestions. How can we make this work?"

"More people," Silas blurted. "Some of these guys have been working four, five watches in a row. They're gonna wear out."

"We could use more materials, too," Jazal put in. "The transmission conduits –" he motioned to what he had been welding. " – have been mended six times in this section alone. And it's not even one of the heavier use sections."

"Well, I think I can get you one of those things, at least. Is there any way we can make what we have last a while longer?"

Again, Silas and Jazal glanced at each other.

"I think we can keep jury rigging things for a while if we have enough manpower to make it work," said Jazal.

"How long is a while?"

"…Months? Maybe years, even."

"Great, that's great."

"Leena, where are you gonna get the extra guys from?" Silas demanded.

"Wherever I can. They don't have to be engineers, right? Just labor?"

"I think so," Silas said. Jazal nodded confirmation.

"What else? Is there anything we're doing now that we could do differently?"

"We've got a lot of higher systems that don't need to be running," Jazal pointed out. "If we cut back to only what was vital to keep sailing, we could free up some manpower."

"Ok. Keep me posted."

Silas threw a mock salute. "Sure thing, Vorth-y. Was that all?"

"No. One more thing. How are the guys?"

"What do you mean?"

"The guys down here, the ones doing the work. You said they were wearing out. What's their status? How are they?"

Silas looked at Jazal for an answer. The man cocked his head, thinking, and stood on one foot. He gave Khaleen the impression of a plastic lawn flamingo.

"They're not well,  _Vorthih_ ," he said at last. "Their friends are gone, the Aether is lost, Harudheen is no more… But they'll keep going for you, as long as you ask it of them. You're our  _vorth_ , after all, our leader. What else do we have? Otherwise, we're just passing the time until we die."

* * *

Back in New York, whenever Khaleen needed to do some serious thinking, she would go up to the roof to do it. There was no roof here to sit on; but she had the run of Malekith's old quarters, and no one else really came in there. For the next two days she sequestered herself there, leaving only to receive morning report from the officers. After forty-eight hours of reading, sketching, and pacing, she decided it was time to air her conclusions.

"Dude, where have you been? I asked you to come in here like an hour ago."

From his expression, Algrim plainly didn't like being called "dude." He could deal with it; Khaleen had other things on her mind.

"I think I solved our personnel problems. Take a look and tell me if you think this could work."

"It won't."

"You didn't even look at it!"

"I don't have to."

"Well, drop dead. I'm running it past the other officers anyway."

Algrim bent over the sketch, scowling at Khaleen's handwriting. "You did away with the entire Harrow crew!"

"We aren't using the Harrows, and we need the crew in other places."

"We need the Harrows to be ready if we have to do battle."

"We aren't going to 'do battle.' We're gonna lie low and keep our noses clean. And if we need to use the Harrows to get off the Ark, they can be ready in five minutes from where they are now."

"What's this?"

"A list of essential and non-essential systems."

"The cloaking shields are non-essential?"

"We don't need them to stay alive. But we do need the air scrubbers and the drive core –"

"How in the Nine Realms are we going to 'lie low' if we can't cloak the Ark?"

"We're in space! Space is really big. We stay away from planets and stuff people are looking at and we're fine. Besides, you weren't using the cloaking shields when you were hibernating."

"No one knew we had survived. Asgard wasn't looking for us then; they are now. Those shields are the only thing keeping their eyes off us."

"Ok, fine, maybe we need the shields. But we need to economize –"

"I have been over this a thousand times. We can't keep the Ark battle-ready if we shut half of it down."

"We don't need it to be battle-ready, we just need it to support life. You need to stop running this place like it's the old days. There's a new mission now."

"I understand that. But you cut an immense number of systems."

"It'll free up the manpower we need to keep the engines running, and give the guys more off-duty time to rest. They're running on empty," she added in response to Algrim's scowl. "You keep pushing them like this and things will fall apart."

"What are they supposed to do? Sit and weep for a world that can never come back? Staying busy keeps them from dwelling on the grief."

"Ok, whether or not blowing off your problems is a good idea, they still need to sleep."

"Do you not think we do what we do for a reason?"

"Whatever! It's not working."

Algrim looked like he desperately wanted to say something, and only tact was keeping him from spitting it out. Khaleen glared back at him.

"Did you fight with Malekith like this?"

"Malekith knew what he was doing!"

"See, that is your problem. You fight with the people who are trying to help you, but you'll blindly follow the guy who leads you on a suicide mission –"

"You know nothing of leading men, or of running an Ark!"

"Which is why I'm calling a council, to see if I missed anything with this plan! Things have got to change!"

"Um… am I interrupting?" Silas stood fidgeting in the door. "I passed on to the officers that you want them to meet you in here."

"Thank you, Silas. See, he listens to me."

Algrim snorted. Khaleen collected her projector with the tentative plan and sat down on the other side of the table.

"They're gonna be here soon. Please keep your comments to yourself until after I show them the plan. I already know what you think; I want to hear what they think."

* * *

In the end, and with varying degrees of enthusiasm, the officers agreed to a modified version of Khaleen's plan. Hodhshi in particular was glad to provide input; evidently he had suggested something like this once before and been shouted down. Khaleen gave him free reign to sketch out his thoughts on her notes, which he did readily. They kept the cloaking shields, but a large number of other systems were shut down or at least put on hold. Suddenly, running the Ark began to look like a much more manageable affair.

Algrim and Davitheen both expressed concern over how the crew would react to so much free time, but Versang put their minds at ease.

"Continuing to push them so hard will only compound the injury in the end," he told them. "Rest will do wonders for them. And they're Harudheen's finest. They're fully able to police themselves."

"And I can open up parts of Malekith's library to them," Khaleen offered. "Give them something to do in their off hours."

The final item for discussion was the necessity of a second meeting. Everyone agreed that they should return to go over the new plan after it had been in effect for several days. Khaleen offered that they should make the meetings a regular occurrence and suggested that all the senior personnel be included.

"What do want them in here every week for?" Algrim complained as the meeting broke up. "You're going to draw all the decision-making power away from the throne."

"First you rag on me for making calls on my own, then you get upset because I'm asking for advice," Khaleen replied. "I can't make you happy, can I?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vorth: monarch. Technically it mean "king," but I'm going to assume it's a gender-neutral term.
> 
> Vorthih: my queen


	12. Happy We're-Not-Dead-Yet-Day

"Don't look now, but Vi's got a boyfriend." Silas's tone was conspiratorial.

Khaleen rolled her eyes. It had been two weeks since the first council, and things were beginning to fall into place. Daily reports and weekly councils had brought her into close contact with the officers of the  _Heedra_ , and the amount that she was learning from them was staggering. Her confidence in her new home had grown to the point that she no longer worried when her cousins were out of her sight, and she had formally moved into her predecessor's quarters; it had become a habit for her to take her first meal there with Silas and Violet.

"What's this?" Algrim looked up from his porridge. He too had been eating breakfast with Khaleen every morning; she had extended the invitation on Versang's advice, reasoning that it would be easier to work with her second-in-command if they were friendly on a personal level.

"Well, he comes by the infirmary every day, and they sit together in the mess hall for the second meal. The other day I saw him holding her hand."

"Ok, back up," Khaleen said. "Who is 'him'?"

"That guy from the Harrow crew, the one that got his arm burned a few weeks ago. Black-something, Blackeroo –"

"That would be Blakavar." Algrim seemed pleased. "He's the youngest of the crew, a good man. He'll make a fine match for your cousin."

Khaleen raised her eyebrows. "Vi's fourteen. There isn't gonna be a 'match'."

"I'll bet Vi and Blakavar think different," Silas grinned. Khaleen stared him down over the rim of her bowl.

"There isn't going to be a 'match'," she repeated. "And stop talking about your sister when she isn't around. She'll smack you good if she finds out."

"Vi doesn't smack people. She's too nice for that."

At that moment the door opened and Violet came in, carrying a crate with the infirmary badge on it.

"Sorry that took so long. Whatcha talking about?"

"It's said that young Blakavar has been graced with your company recently." Algrim's tone was perfectly polite and conversational. Khaleen covered her eyes with one hand. Beet-red, Violet turned on her brother, whose guilty expression told her everything she needed to know. She slapped the back of his head so hard he nearly fell into his porridge.

"Who's too nice to smack people?" Khaleen was trying not to laugh. Violet sat down in a huff.

"Don't talk about me when I'm not around!"

Silas rubbed his neck ruefully. Algrim glanced around the table and shook his head before returning to his breakfast.

"So anyway," Khaleen said when she could hold a straight face. "Back to my original question. Is there anything  _else_ going on that you think I should know about?"

"Morale has improved," Algrim offered.

"How so?"

He shrugged. "The crew seem less weary. I sense acceptance in them."

"Anything's an improvement," said Silas. "But it's still pretty grim out there."

"They need a break," Violet put in. "Every day is the same as every other. There's nothing to look forward to, or back on."

"They look back on the world that was," Algrim said. "They look forward to the world that will be when we have victory." His tone betrayed how likely he felt the latter to be. Khaleen regarded him dryly.

"Well, in the mean time, we should do something to boost morale. Maybe throw a party-celebration-type thing."

"What is there to celebrate?" the captain demanded.

"I don't know, Malekith's birthday. Happy We're-Not-Dead-Yet Day. Pick an occasion."

"What kind of stuff would we have at this party?" Silas asked.

"Hang on." Khaleen already had her sketch pad out; the hologram flickered to life.

"There should be music," Violet suggested.

"I haven't found any recordings." Khaleen frowned.

"Some of the men play instruments," offered Algrim.

"Great. Live… music." Khaleen wrote it down.

"An extra liquor ration for everybody," Silas put in.

"You still don't get any."

"Where there's music, there's going to be dancing," Algrim said.

"Should there be contests or something?" Violet asked.

"Yes!" Algrim and Silas said at the same time. Algrim began listing possible events.

"Combat with the empty hand, combat with the knife, combat with the sword, accuracy of shot, strength of arm, swiftness of foot…"

"There should be prizes for the winners," Silas added.

"There's some spare wiring I could use to make crowns," Violet suggested.

"How about the victor gets a kiss from the queen?" Silas grinned.

"You're gonna get your head smacked again, kid."

"This should be done between the third and fourth watches, when the maintenance crews are being changed," Algrim pointed out. Khaleen was scribbling furiously.

* * *

The date of the party was set for four days out; Algrim was to inform the officers, while Silas and Violet were put in charge of telling the crew. The announcement was met with enthusiasm. Some of the engineers were even talking about putting together a musical group for the occasion.

"They want to know if they can have off so they can play the whole party together," Silas told Khaleen. "I've heard 'em practice, they're pretty good."

Party Day began as dark as any other, but the mood in the lightless halls was somehow less oppressive. Wherever there were crewmen, there was the sound of talking and excited whispers as plans were discussed and wagers made. Khaleen dug through a storage unit in her new quarters and found a cloak made from colored cloth. It was a dark, dark red; back on Earth it wouldn't have been out of place in a vampire costume, but here it was the brightest color she could find. She draped it carefully, the way she'd been taught.

"You look nice," Violet offered.

"Well, since this is all for the guys, I figured I should try."

Halfway through the third watch, the two of them headed down. Algrim had told Khaleen to arrive early; as queen, she was expected to open the festivities. A number of crewmen had already gathered on the floor of the central chamber, and there was a clamor of activity from the adjoining mess hall. Portions of the floor had already been marked out for the various competitions.

" _Äshlimär_ , my queen!" Algrim boomed from across the hall. He was supervising the final touches on a dais. As she approached, he bowed and motioned her towards it. She accepted the offered hand and stepped up, and he followed her.

"I guess this has been a pretty popular idea," she said over the growing chatter.

"It seems you were right about the need for a morale booster," Algrim said.

"Of course I was right."

The captain looked askance and snorted, but he was smiling.

The room was filling up quickly, as everyone not on duty began to arrive. In the corner, the musical group from the engine rooms was tuning up, adding twanging and whale-like bellowing to the noise of voices. A group of cooks was setting up vats of porridge from the galleys. Violet had joined a couple of medics, while Silas had just arrived and was joking with a group of reassigned Harrow techs. Khaleen shifted from one foot to the other.

"Now what?" she asked.

Algrim was about to answer, but something distracted his attention. A man, whom Khaleen recognized as the chief cook, was approaching the dais. A steaming bowl was held in both his hands.

"My queen!" he called out. The chatter tapered off as all attention turned to him. "My queen," he began, "this meal was made especially for this celebration, in your honor. The first bowl is for you."

Khaleen took the offered bowl and looked at the contents. It seemed identical to the usual slurry. Everyone was staring at her. She raised the bowl to her lips; if there was a difference in the taste, it was imperceptible to her. She glanced over the rim. The cook held his mask in one hand, watching her with nervous anticipation. She smiled and raised the bowl high.

"It's good!"

The crowd erupted in cheering, and the party began.

The competitions came first, and were undeniably the highlight. Khaleen had never known that Dark Elves could be such a noisy lot, while everyone not competing gathered on the sidelines to shout jeers or encouragement. Algrim won the strength contest hands down, and for a victory lap he lifted Silas over his head, holding one foot in each hand while the boy stood up and whooped. He didn't come nearly as close with marksmanship, though, being beaten first by one on the junior officers, then Davitheen, and finally by a crew mechanic named Goheen who surprised everyone by taking first place. Goheen wasn't the only one to show off previously unknown talents that day, and Khaleen was kept busy presenting victor's crowns of braided wiring. Masks came off when there were accolades to be received, and she saw many faces for the first time.

As the last races finished up and winners received their prizes, the party began to shift gears. The musical group reassembled, and people began lining up for the food they had previously ignored. Algrim rejoined Khaleen on the dais; his victory garland, one of Violet's early attempts, was too large for a crown and too small for a necklace. It hung at an undignified angle over one ear, and he beamed proudly from under it. On impulse, Khaleen turned to him.

"Algrim, what do I do if I want to address the people?"

In response, Algrim stood up and barked: "Hoy!" Silas caught on and gave a piercing whistle for attention. Caught up in the moment, Khaleen began before the clamor had subsided.

" _Athulihi!_  My friends!" She addressed them in their own language. The few who had remained inattentive now looked up. "Recent years have seen the loss of so much that was good. We have grieved long and hard, but our hope is not destroyed, and much good remains! Rejoice today! Rejoice, and know that we are enough to take hold of our future! My friends, I see that future every day when I see you at your work. I see it in your commitment to your duties, in your courage, in your care and concern for one another. These things are as the warmth in our blood. While they remain, how can we fail? This day, drink to the past and remember all that was worthy. And drink also to the future, and know that while the  _geileel_  of this Ark remain steadfast, our future lives!"

The roar that greeted this speech nearly took Khaleen off her feet.

The party now began to settle into its pace. Someone had brought up packing crates, and Khaleen and Algrim took seats on these to watch the festivities. One of the cooks brought them bowls of white liquor.

"It won't hurt you," Algrim said as Khaleen stared distrustfully at the ration. "Drink! Show you men you stand with them." There was another shout of approval as Khaleen threw back her first swig.

Sitting up on her dais, high and mighty as it were, she had an uncomfortable sense that she should have been participating more. But if it had been necessary to do anything, Algrim would have coached her to do it; at the moment he did not seem to think she was being too aloof. At any rate, it was a fine party even to observe. Men had gathered in groups to talk and play a game that looked a bit like poker, and closer to the musicians they had broken out in dancing. Khaleen had never seen dancing like the Dark Elves had. There were slow, solemn numbers like processions, and fast ones with lots of complicated steps and hand motions. Most were individual styles, although there was one that involved sets of four partners and looked more like a four-way duel than a dance. While Khaleen watched, one of the men – she realized that it must be Blakavar – took Violet's hand, and together they began an intricate couples' dance. Neither seemed to know it very well; older crewmen kept calling out corrections, and several managed to cut in under the guise of "demonstrating." Violet danced with all comers, but her eyes stayed on Blakavar and she always found a way back to him.

From her vantage point on the dais, Khaleen took the time to observe the young man. All the mistrust she had first seen in him was gone, replaced with a sort of happy nervousness whenever Violet was near. He had a handsome face with something of the aristocrat in it, and if he had been human, she would have guessed him to be about eighteen. She nudged Algrim.

"Hey, that guy down there with Violet – Blakavar – "

"Yes."

"What can you tell me about him?"

"His father was a friend of Malekith. Before we set out on our initial campaign, he requested that the boy be placed on this ship – actually, 'begged' was the word I heard used. I never heard his reasons, but I wonder if he didn't have some foresight of what was coming. Blakavar was a child when he came to us as an apprentice; his ordeal of manhood was the war, and he earned his warrior braids fighting Asgardians. He does good service, for all he can scarcely remember the world of which the others speak."

He kept talking, but Khaleen had become distracted. Watching Violet dance alone with each successive partner, she had realized something that she ought to have noticed before. She interrupted Algrim with her observation.

"There aren't any women here."

"No."

"Well, why? Do women just not become warriors?"

"No. Some of our greatest  _geileel_  have been women. It's just that fewer of them than of the men choose this life."

"But there are none here."

"There were –" Algrim's face grew solemn, "– but they are among the slain now. Vrath and Eetja went down with one of the Harrows; Shinlai accompanied a unit as a field medic and we haven't seen them since the Convergence…"

Khaleen pondered this for a moment. "Then Vi – and me – we're the only ones…"

A note of misgiving crept into her voice. Algrim shook his head.

"Have no fear for yourself or your kinswoman. It is a woman's place to chose her company; all  _älfeneel_  know this."

"So that's why you were so excited about Vi and Blakavar."

"Yes. You and she are the last that can produce children within our bloodlines."

"We're not even completely within the 'bloodlines' ourselves," she pointed out. "We're half-elves."

Algrim shrugged. "You are of the house of Kitharn. What higher heritage is there?"

"Well, I guess I know my royal duty now." Khaleen's tone was sour.

"It is a concern for another time," Algrim said. "What use is there in producing children if there is no home to receive them?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> athulihi: my friends (athu: friend; athul: friends)
> 
> geileel: warriors (geilää: warrior)
> 
> Author's note: Pretty sure Blakavar's name comes from Watership Down. The sound fit the Shivaisith, and it worked for his character, so I kept it.


	13. Memoriam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is posted in memory of Hannah, who is among the fallen. Swordsister, your own salute you.

The gong-tone sounded in the hallways, ordering on-duty personnel back to their stations. The musicians packed away their instruments and split up; on the floor of the chamber, a few men lingered over games or drinks, but the day was clearly over. Silas had spent the latter half of the party with his friends from the engine rooms. As they prepared to leave, a final bowl made the rounds, and Khaleen caught her cousin taking a drink from it with the others. She started to swoop down on him, but Algrim stopped her.

"He does a man's work; let him have a man's drink."

"It – it'll stunt his growth!"

"If he's to be nearly as tall as his forebearers, no one will notice."

Someone kept topping off Khaleen's own drink throughout the party, and by the time she noticed, she had already drunk a great deal. She nearly fell as she stepped off the dais; leaving the room, she leaned heavily on Algrim's arm. In the hallway, she heard someone speaking.

"I should see you back to the queen."

"I don't think she'd mind," Violet answered. "And besides, she lives down the hall from me."

"Then I should see you back to your brother. Your family will worry."

"It's ok. Thanks, Blakavar."

"I will go with you to your door, at least." The young man's accent was much heavier than Algrim's, to the point where he had trouble pronouncing certain words. "It is only right, Viola."

" _Violet._ "

"Viol – Violeth – "

Khaleen heard her cousin giggle. "Close enough."

Looking up, Khaleen saw Algrim smile.

"Ok, ok. They're a cute couple, I guess."

"I thought you said there would be no match."

"There won't. Vi's way to young. But, you know… eventually." She tripped over nothing and sagged against the captain's arm, groaning. "I shouldn't have drank so much."

"I should have told them to cut you off. I didn't know you'd take it so hard."

"Well, I'm not as big as you. There's less of me to soak it up…"

Algrim supported her through the door to her quarters and into a chair. The white liquor made it hard to remember how her boot laces worked.

"You're always so nice to me," she fretted as Algrim hung her cloak over the table. "And I always dump on you so much."

"We all have our duties, my queen." He put an arm around her and helped her up.

"How come you put up with me?"

He deposited her on the edge of her bed and stood looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite decipher.

"You're of his house," he said at last. "And you have his face. It is enough to make you dear to any who loved him." He knelt and swung her feet into the bed. "There, sleep it off. You'll feel better." He stood to go.

"Algrim?"

"Yes?" He turned back.

"I don't want to have a baby."

"And I say again, it is a concern for another time."

"Yeah, but… I wouldn't make a good mom."

"Why?"

She pulled the blanket up to her chin. "Maedh."

He shook his head. "I didn't know your mother. But if you were to care for your child the way you care for your kinsmen and your people… that child would be lucky." He started back toward the door.

"Hey…"

"Yes?"

"Thanks, man."

"Sleep, my queen." He smiled and closed the door.

* * *

"Where were you last night?"

"Right here. Why?"

Silas glowered at her over his tea. Evidently he'd had more to drink at the party than the nightcap, and he was hung over. Khaleen's own headache wasn't nearly as bad as his.

"Well, what were you doing?"

"I was sleeping." She paused with her tea bowl halfway to her mouth. "Silas, what the hell?"

"Well, a bunch of people saw you leave with Algrim, and nobody saw either of you after that."

Khaleen set her bowl down. "Seriously? He walked me back and then left. Are you kidding me…"

"Hey, I don't make the news…" Silas leaned over his bowl and glared at it. Violet passed the table, humming and dancing. She hadn't been still since she entered the room. "Will you knock it off?" Silas snapped.

"Vi, keep it to a minimum, please. Your brother's hung over."

"I am not hung over."

"Sorry." Violet sat down at the table. Khaleen shook her head.  _Don't be._  Silas put his head on the table and groaned.

"Why is everyone so obscenely happy today?"

_I warned you. I warned you, but would you listen?_  Khaleen rolled her eyes.  _You get no sympathy._ She finished the last of her tea and stood up.

"All right, council meeting's in fifteen minutes. I gotta get cleaned up."

It took her minutes to wash her face and grab her cloak and headpiece. Entering the hall, she nearly collided with Algrim.

"How do you feel today?" he asked as she fell in beside him.

"Ok, I guess. A little groggy. Vi gave me something in my tea that kinda helps."

"Well and good." Khaleen couldn't recall Algrim smiling so much in all the rest of the time she had known him. She decided it looked good on him.

"Silas had more fun than he knew what to do with last night," she remarked. "He's worse off than me."

"Poor Jazal. He was counting on his help in engineering today."

"He's gonna have to deal. Once Silas shakes this hangover I'm gonna start having him sit in on council meetings. He's my heir, you know; he's gonna have to learn this stuff, too…"

They had reached the bridge. The other officers were already assembled; as Khaleen and Algrim entered, every member of the council looked up. Khaleen's good spirits evaporated; the ubiquitous masks hid the officers' faces, but disapproval was written in every line of their postures. She glanced at Algrim, even as she took a half-conscious step away from him.

"Thoughtful of you, not to keep the Queen from her councilors." Davitheen's voice crackled with sarcasm. Algrim blinked. Before either of them could react, Versang interjected.

"Enough, Davitheen. We have business to attend to." He stepped aside, allowing Khaleen to take her place for the morning report.

They were in remarkably good shape, all things considered. A handful of men had been through the infirmary the previous night, one with a pulled muscle from the tournaments and the rest with injuries relating to high spirits and drink. None of the injuries were serious. The absenteeism the officers had dreaded had failed to materialize; in fact, the men were carrying out their duties with renewed enthusiasm. As a morale booster, the celebration had been a complete success.

The new-found optimism had not been limited to men, apparently. As the meeting wound down, Versang motioned everyone to stay put while he addressed the queen. The others seemed to know already what he intended to say; several junior officers, manning the instruments on the bridge, turned their full attention over and had to be chased back to their posts. When order was restored, he began.

"My queen, there is a sense among the officers that since you began to assume command, we have finally returned to our proper course. Clearly, we have been badly weakened by recent battles; but there is hope now that under your rule, we may yet return to our former might. As such, it would behoove us to begin taking steps now to ensure the security of our people until our full strength is restored."

Khaleen cocked her head. "Okay. What do you have in mind?

Davitheen leaned in, his voice low and exited. "You know that the Aether was lost to us and we do not know where it may be, or in whose hands. But it was lost once before and we found it. There are likely places to begin the search; we have instruments that could be used to detect it, even without a mental bond; and with you to lead us – "

"What?! No. Hell no!" Khaleen had replied in English. She switched back to the proper language to continue. "Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea how much trouble this thing has already caused? We've already pissed off every other Realm out there. There are not enough of us left to throw away more lives chasing this stupid thing!"

"It is the heritage of the House of Kitharn and the only defense for our people in times of trouble!" Davitheen's voice rose with Khaleen's. "Do you not care about our way of life? You must retrieve the Aether, you or another – "

"Out of the question! This council is over. Return to your posts!" Khaleen pushed past her stunned advisers and stormed off the bridge. Halfway down the hall she heard footsteps coming after her.

"What?" she demanded. Algrim slowed his pace and turned to face her.

"Khaleen, what's wrong with you? Get back in there and listen to them. They're right!"

"So what? I'm not getting us involved in that crap again. It's hard enough to keep us alive –"

"The power contained in the Aether can restore our people. We can only live if we get it back –"

" – And getting it back will destroy us, just like it almost did last time! What do you think I was doing all that time in the library, coloring books?" She ignored Algrim's confused expression. He shook his head.

"We don't have to demand it back now. There are millennia until the next Convergence. We grow in strength, we lay our plans, we bide our time. Then when the moment is right, we will strike, and we will succeed –" Khaleen began walking away from him. "Don't you understand, this is why we were spared! This is our purpose, to build a universe where our children and our children's children can live and thrive!"

"There are seven billion people on Midgard right now!" She turned around. "All of them would be dead if Malekith had succeeded in his terraforming plot. Human beings can't live in the dark!"

"Why do you care so much about Midgard?" Algrim demanded. "You were a fugitive!"

"I –" Khaleen's answer stuck in her throat. Midgard – Earth – meant hunger and cold, being chased by cops and harrassed by teachers. Everything that had made it bearable was either with her on the Ark or gone for good. She met Algrim's eyes. "Screw Midgard. But I'm not gonna be the reason another planet becomes uninhabitable like Harudheen."

For a long moment neither spoke. From somewhere down the hall came the clunk of tools and the murmur of low voices. Finally Algrim sighed and looked away.

"What would you have us do?"

"What were you gonna do anyway while you waited for the Convergence? You can't put everybody back in hibernation; the Ark would fall apart before we woke up and no one would survive." She took a step towards him. "Look, there are over two thousand people who should be on this ship right now, who are dead. My goal is just to make sure that the number doesn't get any bigger. And maybe there's some corner out there, out of the way – someplace dark and quiet and friendly where we can settle down again. 105 people don't need a lot of room."

"So you want us to accept our fate?"

"Sure, if that's what it takes to move on."

The captain straightened up with a sigh. "You are queen. But they won't like this decision." He started to go, then hesitated. "Do not ever speak as though I do not care about the fallen. I remember every face." And with that, he was gone.


	14. Swordplay

"If you are to rule well, you must learn how to fight."

"I know how to fight, man."

"I mean fight like us."

The Ark contained a deck dedicated to physical training and conditioning, a necessity in maintaining a fighting force. Today, Algrim had brought Khaleen here after breakfast, explaining himself on the way.

"Let me see what you've got." He pulled two practice weapons from a rack and tossed one to Khaleen. She caught it and turned it over, examining it. It was a sword, made of a dark, resinous material, about the length of her arm from elbow to fingertips. The shape reminded her of the tooth of some gigantic animal. Algrim wielded a similar one. He whirled it over his shoulder and dropped into a fighting stance, beckoning her to attack. She frowned. She could count on one hand the number of actual fights she'd been in, and all of them had ended with her outrunning her opponent.

_If you can give a speech, you can do this_. She lunged. The next thing she knew, she lay on her back on the other side of the room with the blunt edge of Algrim's sword held against her chest. He had sidestepped at the last moment and she had gone flying. She tipped her head back and saw him staring down at her.

"Crap."

"You know how to fight, do you?"

It took her a moment to untangle her feet from her cloak. Algrim helped her back up.

"Hold it like this. Stand with your feet apart… no, don't be ridiculous. You need to be able to hold you ground without getting knocked over." He gave her a shove. "You see how steady that is? Now bring your feet together when you take a step. Draw in, then expand…"

When Algrim was satisfied with her grasp of the basics, he took a step back.

"Not bad, considering you're beginning so late. Let's see you attack me again." He dropped into a fighting stance.

Khaleen grimaced. "I'm gonna get pasted again."

"Not my intention. Besides, you're better than you were an hour ago."

She sighed and assumed a stance, stepping in and striking the way he'd showed her. He parried easily and returned the blow, slowly enough for her to block. A small crowd began to gather. The two of them had long since abandoned their cloaks to fight; Algrim's armor glimmered, while the silver embroidery on the hem of Khaleen's tabard rustled around her knees. Their dueling picked up pace, with Algrim calling out corrections and suggesting attacks for her to use. Out of the corner of her eye, Khaleen caught a glimpse of Silas, standing on tiptoe and craning his neck. The onlookers were silent; or perhaps Khaleen was simply too intent on the combat to notice them. Parry, strike, step, block, strike again. Algrim began adding more complicated moves.

"Don't limit yourself to your sword; your whole body can be a weapon. Hit me where I'm not expecting it. Strike low with one hand and high with the other… There you go!" He laughed as she swung a fist at his unprotected head, as he had advised.

By now Khaleen was pouring sweat and winded, and the burning in her muscles was getting harder to ignore. Algrim added speed and complexity with every step, raining attack and counterattacks on her. She realized he was going easy on her, allowing her to learn without losing face in front of her people. Just when she was beginning to think she couldn't take another step, he made a feint and moved behind her, striking at her head. She saw the blow coming just in time; her block sent Algrim's sword arm swinging wide while she arced her blade down in what would have been a killing blow. She stopped with the tip of the weapon brushing his breastplate. His eyes flashed with triumph.

"So," he said as the onlookers shouted their approval. "You have some talent after all."

Khaleen started to answer when a harsh yell from the crowd pulled her attention away. She turned, as did everyone else, toward its owner. The man stood unmasked at the back of the crowd. Khaleen had never seen his face before, but she recognized him from his armor and build as one of the Harrow mechanics who had been reassigned to engine maintenance. He glared at her, fists clenched, unfazed by the stares leveled at him.

_"Prakhah!"_  he barked. "Idiots, standing around cheering at this – display! If only it were a blood duel, not some mockery of a marriage dance. The Commander should challenge for her throne, not her favors!"

A murmur of shock went through the crowd. Algrim's breath hissed through his teeth and he tightened his grip on his weapon; on the sidelines, Silas covered his face in horror. The man swayed unsteadily and his words slurred when he spoke. Khaleen placed herself between him and Algrim.

"Who let you into the liquor storage, Reshlem? I can smell you from over here. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"My only shame is that it took this much drink for me to say what everyone else is thinking!" He drew himself up and nearly fell over. Khaleen snorted.

"Algrim, have someone escort this man to confinement to sleep off his drink. I'll talk to him again when he's sober."

Algrim nodded and two men on the sidelines stepped to either side of Reshlem. He scowled and showed his teeth at them, but allowed himself to be led off the training deck. At the threshold he looked over his shoulder at Khaleen

"Half-blood harlot!" His keepers hustled him through the door and he was gone. The remaining onlookers lingered a moment in silence. Some of them shuffled uncomfortably toward the exits; the rest stared at Khaleen, waiting for her reaction. She tried to hide her shock by staring down her nose at the door and sniffing.

"This crew apparently has a drinking problem. In the future, no one will exceed their daily liquor ration unless otherwise specified in orders. Drunkenness will be dealt with severely." She turned and walked out of the ring, trying to look composed while she located her cloak. As she passed Algrim, he ground his teeth.

"Good," he muttered. "I'll see that fool rue the day he tasted liquor."

* * *

Two hours later, Khaleen stood on the bridge in council with her officers, deciding what to do with the unfortunate Reshlem.

"All I want to know is, was he supposed to be on duty when he was walking around drunk?" she demanded.

"The fact that he was drunk at all should be enough," Hodhshi pointed out.

"There's a difference between being drunk on your cot and being drunk when you're supposed to be operating machinery, and it'll determine the severity of the sentence – "

"Flogging for drunkenness, but the airlock for insubordination!" Algrim cut in. "I say we send him and his mutinous influence into the void and have done with it. That will solve the problem."

"There are 105 of us left," Khaleen said into the silence that followed. "We can't afford more dead people. Flog him for drunkenness, read him the riot act on insubordination, and he'll learn his lesson." The other officers murmured their assent. "Will you see it done, Algrim?" He grunted and stood up. "And go easy on him," Khaleen called after him. "Everybody gets stupid; just let him know it's not gonna happen again."

"Highly irregular," Versang pointed out as Algrim left.

"This whole situation's irregular," Khaleen said. "Anyway, we can't just replace crewmen anymore."

"Not that no one's tried." Davitheen hadn't said a word until now. Everyone looked at him. His tone was mild, but when he met Khaleen's eyes, it was with a look of bitter accusation.

A thought – a series of images, all at once – leapt into her mind; she saw Algrim's face and her own, and more skin than anyone in this place ever showed. In a flash of insight she realized what Reshlem had meant and her face burned. Davitheen continued to glare at her; she felt somehow as if she had read his mind.

"What are you saying?" she demanded.

"I'm saying no more or less than my words imply," he replied coolly. "Why – can you not refute Reshlem's words?"

Khaleen recovered herself and glared at the officer. "I shouldn't have to."

* * *

Reshlem received his punishment publicly the next day. Sober, he seemed to regret his outburst, and said as much when the sentence was read out. He took the blows stoically; Khaleen left feeling sick, but the rest of the crew took it in stride. The matter was concluded, but the trouble was just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prakhah: presumably a cuss word. I made it up.
> 
> Author's note: Props to moonship and her fic Thickened Skin. I relied heavily on the worldbuilding she did there for the culture and customs of the Dark Elves.


	15. Crisis Management

"What are you guys up to?" Silas's smile stretched a little too wide as he burst into Khaleen's quarters, where she and Algrim were arguing over the supply list.

"Why do you need to know?"

"Well, you know…" Silas shuffled his feet. "You guys had the door closed and stuff… I just kinda…" He shrank beneath the stares leveled at him. Khaleen frowned.

"Silas, what the hell? Do you need something?"

"What exactly is this about?" demanded Algrim. Silas finally broke.

"Hey, I'm not the one starting all the rumors! I'm trying to cover for you guys here – "

"Okay, calm down, people." Khaleen stepped between the two before things could get out of hand. "What are you trying to cover?"

"You two are always in here together with the door closed and nobody knows what you're doing. Even you gotta admit what it looks like."

"What exactly does it look like?"

"Umm…" Silas turned red and started shuffling his feet again. Khaleen pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Oh, good Lord."

"The queen requires information and advice, which I give to her. That is the extent of it!" Algrim snapped.

"Hey, don't tell me, tell them!" Silas pointed out the door. "I believe you! It's not just Reshlem. People are getting freaked out and talking. It's getting out of control."

"How out of control?" Khaleen asked. "Who's saying what?"

"I dunno; I just hear this stuff from Jazal. People won't say things in front of me. But they're scared, they say you're irresponsible and you don't have their good in mind. They're losing confidence – in both of you. They were all ready to follow you," he said to Algrim. "But now they're saying you've gone off the deep end, that you lost your mind or something…"

Khaleen glanced at the captain.

"I overlooked that," he admitted.

"You guys have to take this seriously," Silas pleaded. "Things are really unstable out there."

* * *

Hours later, Khaleen sat in her quarters, head in her hands.

"I have to do something."

"What did you have in mind?" Violet sat on her bed, hugging a bowl of tea with her knees to her chest.

"I didn't. I didn't even know how bad it was until today. I don't know if anybody's told you…"

"That the crew think you're doing Algrim?"

Khaleen whipped around and stared open-mouthed at her cousin.

"What? I went to high school. I know how it works. Besides," she added. "Even you have to admit it looks sketchy."

Khaleen groaned and dropped her head onto the table. "Why did I not think of that? Who started talking in the first place, anyway?"

"I don't know, but…" Violet paused, staring into her tea. "I don't think he's the one who started it, but Davitheen's really angry about the whole thing; he says you're choosing favorites. A lot of the junior officers are ready to side with him against you and Algrim."

"There is no me and Algrim. We're supposed to all be in this together."

"You need to show them that we are, then. The ones that aren't mad about you and Algrim are upset that you've ditched the fight with Asgard."

"What am I supposed to do?" Khaleen sighed. "I never wanted this. I was just trying to keep you and Silas safe." For a long time neither of them spoke. Finally Violet broke the silence.

"It doesn't matter what you wanted; this is what you've got. And thanks for trying to keep us safe, but right now you need to look out for the people. Silas and me will be fine." When Khaleen didn't answer, she continued. "You need to do something to show them that you care, that you're solid with them – "

Khaleen sputtered. "What else can I do? I've stretched resources, I've learned names, I even threw them a party, for crying out loud! What haven't I done?"

"You've never gone to Harudheen." The thought seemed to have occurred to Violet at that moment. "They know we were born on Midgard; maybe if we could get them to see that your origins are still their origins…"

"We can't go to Harudheen. It's being watched."

"Then there must be some other place we could go to pay our respects. Make a show of getting back to your roots, and everyone who's saying you don't care will shut up."

"I hate making a show of stuff."

"You're a queen; your whole life is for show." Violet sipped at her tea. "That's why you're in trouble, because you don't get it."

Khaleen laughed in spite of herself. "Okay, princess." Then, more seriously: "I guess… I dunno. I don't care what Davitheen's saying about me; he can drop dead. But… I do care about the crew. I want to make things right for them. If you think taking a field trip will smooth things over, fine, I'll take the field trip. You're just gonna have to help me figure out where we need to go."

"I will," Violet said. "You know, if it's any consolation, not everybody's mad at you. Lots of people that couldn't stand you at first are okay with you now. Blakavar's one, and Hodhshi and Jazal from engineering. The others will come around. There's always going to be a lot of respect for the House of Kitharn." She smiled suddenly and got up. "You know what? I think I know where we should go."

* * *

"Alfheim. You want us to go to Alfheim?" Davitheen stared at the queen, incredulous.

"Yes." Khaleen returned the stares of her officers. "As you know, we have traditionally had allies in that world."

"We have traditionally had enemies there, as well," Davitheen pointed out.

"He's right," Algrim said, drawing a scowl from Davitheen. "The Light Elves are friends of Asgard. If you go looking for potential allies, you'll only draw down trouble from them."

"You'd be right if I were looking for potential allies," Khaleen said. "But I already have someone in mind." They were paying attention now. She began to lay out the plan she and Violet had talked about the night before. "As you know, my grandmother, Alflyse, the daughter of Kitharn, lived on Midgard for a number of years while she raised her children. However, she has not been seen there since I was a small child. We were always told that she had gone to Alfheim to live. I believe she may still be there, and I intend to find her. Not only is she the last of the royal blood who has seen Harudheen in its glory, but she has seen more of the Nine Realms over the past few millennia than any of us. We need her counsel if we are to succeed."

The assembled officers murmured their assent. Even Davitheen couldn't find anything to argue with in Khaleen's logic; he looked mildly disappointed.

"Very well." He drew himself up. "The  _geileel_  are at your command, my queen. What is our heading, my captain?" Khaleen was impressed. Davitheen knew full well how to get to Alfheim; she wondered if he was finally backing off his vendetta.

As the officers moved to direct the Ark into its new course, Silas flashed his cousin a thumbs-up. Khaleen smiled as she moved aside to watch. She was joined by Versang.

"Well said, my queen." His mask hid his expression, but his voice was warm. "Alflyse's counsel will prove a boon if we are to regain our place in the universe."

Khaleen glanced at him. "I don't want any misunderstanding. My goal is to keep us safe; if that means we can't go back to Harudheen, so be it."

"But, Alflyse…"

"Can help us get our bearings, hopefully."

The surgeon watched her for a moment in silence. At last he bowed. "As you say, my queen."


	16. Security Measures

"What is this?"

Khaleen couldn't keep a smile off her face as she walked into her cousins' quarters. Silas stood in the middle of the room, clad head to toe in battle armor, while Jazal from engineering crouched on the floor next to him, helping secure the pieces in place. The boy's face was hidden by the characteristic mask; at the sound of her voice, he turned toward her.

"Hey, check it out! This thing can see infrared!" His cheerful tone was a sharp contrast to the mask's expression.

" _Tiplju rashidheenaslu?_  What's Hodhshi got you doing that you need body armor for?"

"If you please, my queen," Jazal said. "We are entering dangerous space. It will stand the prince in good stead to be ready." He finished adjusting and stood up. "How does it feel?"

"It's kinda heavy." Silas swung his arms and legs experimentally. Khaleen thought it looked too big on him; he had shot up in height over the past few months, but was still shorter than her and had yet to fill out. "The mask feels like it's rubbing, too." He popped it off with one hand. Two red friction marks ran from his temples to his jaw.

"It is the seal on the mask. You will get used to it." Jazal took off his own mask and motioned to the corresponding scars on each side of his face. "Soon it will toughen up, and you will have the marks of a  _geilää_." He grinned and cocked his white brows.

"It's a good look," Khaleen said. Silas beamed. No one had cut his hair since they had arrived on the Ark, and it stood out wildly from the headpiece. He looked like a kid playing dress-up. "Jazal, what did you mean by 'dangerous space'?"

"There are many places in the universe that are full of  _mouhel_ , enemies. Asgardians and their allies, marauding ships, Kree… Your command is not to seek a fight, but sometimes the fight seeks us. There are many who would be glad to find us alive, if only to be the ones to kill us."

Khaleen looked at Silas; he was shadowboxing in his new gear. She swallowed. "How long does he have to wear that?"

"As long as he is able," Jazal said. "It belonged to good warrior; it will serve him well."

* * *

That night Khaleen was alone in her quarters when the lights shut off and her reader went dead. Out in the hall, the constant hum of machine noises had gone silent. Khaleen picked her way through the corridors toward the bridge.

"Algrim!" She could barely make out his silhouette. "What's going on? Why's everything shut off?"

"Security measure." His voice was hushed. "We're passing another ship. Cloaking shields are at full strength; everything else is powered down to reduce chances of their tracking us."

Khaleen took a step towards the mirror that displayed the outside stars. It had gotten cold; her breath formed a cloud in front of her. Far off in the void, something glimmered.

"What are they?"

"Skrull," Algrim answered.

"Chitauri." Silas was staring at one of the few instrument displays still running. He looked up. "They're Chitauri, aren't they?"

"I wouldn't call them that in their hearing. Before, it was a good way to start a war. We called them Skrull."

"They called themselves Chitauri when they attacked New York," Silas said.

The commander shrugged. "Much can change in five millennia."

Khaleen was still staring at the tiny ship in the mirror. She hugged her cloak closer around her. "Can they track us, even with the shields?"

"If they know how, which they may not." Algrim came to stand beside her. "But as weak as we are, I won't take any chances."

"How long until we pass them?"

"Hours. We could go faster, but the engines would emit particles that they might notice. Riding momentum will take longer, but it's the safest course." From his tone, he might have been explaining how to take the bus to Manhattan. Khaleen let out the breath she'd been holding; but she remained on the bridge the rest of the night, until Algrim judged that they were far enough away to safely power up.

Shift change took place at the start of the first watch. As soon as Algrim had handed off command, he, Khaleen, and Silas regrouped in the royal quarters. Violet joined them, bringing their morning tea – each bowl with a generous shot of liquor in it. She sat with them at the table, feet drawn up under her dress and a blanket around her shoulders. It took the ancient ship a long time to warm back up.

"You recognized that ship." Algrim set his tea down and looked across at Khaleen and Silas. Violet glanced between them. Khaleen nodded.

"They hit New York, maybe a year before you guys showed up," Silas explained. "Just came pouring out of the sky. The Avengers stopped them." His face split into a grin. "It was awesome; Captain America and Iron Man were fighting 'em, and the Hulk was smashing stuff, and that Thor guy from Asgard even showed up – "

"Ok, great. Thanks, Silas." Khaleen rubbed at her temples. She slumped in her chair, more than a little embarrassed by her own fear. Glancing up, she caught Algrim's eye and sighed. "Silas and Vi were at school that day. I couldn't get to them because of the fighting." The captain nodded.

"The Skrull are a formidable foe. That you have faced them and emerged victorious –"

"We didn't 'face them.' We were running for our lives," she snapped. "Sorry. I just… I thought we were all gonna die and I couldn't find you guys." Violet nodded somberly and Silas looked down. For all the Avengers fever afterwards, both had cried when Kelly and Khaleen had finally found them. "That's why I was so freaked out when you showed up," she added to Algrim. "I thought you were with them."

"This is not that time." The commander met her eye. "You are among  _geileel_  now, among fighters."

"Yeah," Silas added. "If they find us, we'll make 'em sorry they did!"

Khaleen didn't smile. "Let's just make sure they don't ever find us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiplju rashidheenaslu: what in the universe


	17. Alfheim

"Can they see us?

"They shouldn't. Not while we're cloaked."

"Asgardian settlements in the north, but they seem calm. The watch on this world doesn't seem too close."

The sphere of Alfheim loomed large on the display screen, the largest moon of a blue gas giant. Behind the hologram, the planets hung in the viewing mirror, silhouetted against their trinary star. Khaleen frowned.

"I don't remember reading about any Asgardians living on Alfheim."

"They didn't in our day," Algrim said. "It seems they've settled there since."

"We had intelligence of an alliance between Asgard and the Light Elves, just before the last Convergence," Davitheen added. "We must be cautious in our search."

Khaleen wondered what she had expected to find. In her reading, she had learned of Alfheim as a wild, secluded world, settled long before Kitharn's reign by off-shoots of the Dark Elves. There had been no mention of Asgardian influence. Had she really expected that to go unchanged in five thousand years? She shook her head and tried to focus on the task at hand.

"If I may, my queen, how did you propose to find the princess?" Davitheen asked. Algrim glanced at her as well, eyebrows raised. Khaleen stared up at the display of the slowly rotating planet and tried to remember her mother's stories. It had been a long time. Maedh hadn't spoken of Alflyse since Khaleen was eight.

"My mom always talked about Alfheim as a refuge. She talked about a place called Gimla in the south, at the edge of a range of mountains, not far from the sea. I think that's what we're looking for."

"There are signs of a settlement in a place that corresponds to that description," said one of the officers. "I'm reading wavelength communications… We should be able to send them a message."

"How will you tell if it is her?" Algrim asked.

Khaleen hesitated; this was the dangerous part. If they simply walked in and started asking, they would probably have Asgardians coming down on them within five minutes. Using the wrong frequency or broadcasting the wrong message could be just as bad.

"Can you open a line with that settlement?" The communications officer nodded. "Good. Do that, but only send what I say."

The officer did as she said, then beckoned her up to speak into the devise. Khaleen cleared her throat and leaned in close.

_"Äshlimär, athu."_  Then, in English: "We come in peace." She repeated the message twice; before she could speak a third time, she was interrupted by a return message.

"Who are you that speak in the tongues of Harudheen and Midgard?" It was a woman's voice.

"A wanderer," Khaleen replied. "I seek the wisdom of Alflyse."

"Who are you that seek Alflyse?"

"The daughter of her daughter." The response was so long in coming that Khaleen thought the connection might have failed. She could feel everyone in the room holding their breath.

"Then you are Khaleen."

"Yes." Another long pause.

"Then you are welcome in Gimla."

"I'm not alone. Are my friends also welcome?"

"Who are your friends?"

"The children of Harudheen."

"That cannot be. Harudheen is childless now."

"Harudheen is not childless." The pause that followed was the longest yet.

"Your friends are welcome, Khaleen. I will see you." The connection shut off, and the room let out a collective sigh of relief.

* * *

Half an hour later, the council met in Khaleen's quarters.

"It's a diplomatic mission. You need to put on a show of strength," Algrim said. "You should have your highest officers with you – Davitheen, Versang, and me, I think."

"You'll need an honor guard," Davitheen put in. "Twelve should be enough, chosen from the tallest and strongest."

"Right." Khaleen was struggling to remember everything.

"Don't forget me and Vi," Silas said, appearing at her side.

"No. You guys are staying here with the crew."

The boy's face fell. "But – but –"

"Can it. You two are my heirs. If this thing goes all sideways, I need you alive and safe." Silas scowled but didn't argue. Khaleen turned to Hodhshi. "Until we get back, you're in charge."

"Maintain radio silence. Keep everything cloaked. We're taking no chances," Algrim added.

Everyone except Algrim and Khaleen hurried off to make their preparations. Silas hung around a few minutes longer, staring imploringly at his cousin.

"Enough with the puppy eyes. You know why you can't go."

"But she's our grandmother!"

"If it's safe, I'll let you come down. We can't afford to take any more risks right now. I promise," she added, "I will let you know."

Silas sighed and trudged out, shoulders slumped, leaving the door open behind him. Khaleen began looking through her things.

"Do you remember Alflyse at all?" She didn't know why she felt so nervous about the meeting. Algrim shrugged.

"I met her several times, before. You have more recent knowledge of her."

She pulled out a cloak and examined it. "The last time I saw her was when I was three years old."

"What do you remember?"

She thought for a moment. "She was tall. Like, she had to look down to look my dad in the eye, and he was a pretty tall guy. And she had white hair, but she didn't look old, and she had eyes like my mom's – like a Dark Elf's. Guess she would," she added, and Algrim smiled. "I remember she said something to me about how I looked like her side of the family, and it made me real happy back then…" Khaleen noticed that she had been wadding her cloak into a ball and began trying to smooth the wrinkles back out. Algrim took it from her, snapped it once, and handed it back.

"She was a very noble lady, and very powerful already, when I knew her."

Khaleen tried to remember something she thought he had said once. "You said she was… what, 'eccentric' or something?"

"She left Harudheen long before the war to live in the lit worlds and study their lore. We never heard what became of her, after the fighting started."

Khaleen fastened her cloak and tugged her tunic straight. "Well, great. Your intel's five thousand years old, and mine's from when I was a toddler. Can't do much worse."

"What are you afraid of? She's family."

"Yeah…" Khaleen rolled her eyes. "That always makes everything great."

* * *

They rode down in one of the Harrows, leaving the Ark cloaked in orbit. Khaleen briefly remembered her first ride in the drop ship; this time was just as nerve racking, for different reasons. She wondered if Davitheen had picked the honor guard. As they boarded, she had noticed two of the senior soldiers speaking to him; they fell silent as she approached.

A wave of turbulence bounced the little ship as they entered the atmosphere.  _What am I even doing here?_  Khaleen though as the enormity of her situation washed over her. A billion light-years, an alien language, and a set of braids away from everything she'd ever known, and here she was, scheming at once for her own survival and that of her subjects – her subjects.  _I did not sign up for any of this._

She forced herself to stop fiddling with her cloak and chanced a look around her. Versang was on her left; across from her, where she could easily see him, stood Algrim. At least there were two people here she could count on. She took a deep breath.  _I did not come all this way to die in a coup._

A lurch and the fading of engine noises signaled that the harrow had come to rest. While they waited for the pilots to finish scanning for danger, Algrim stepped across the compartment.

"You forgot this." He drew a mask from under his cloak and handed it to her.

"I don't need it, I can see outside –"

"You'll need it," he insisted. Khaleen stared uncertainly at it and tried it on. It latched into her headpiece and sealed with a hiss. The lenses cut off her peripheral vision, and the seal dug into the sides of her face. She began to feel closed in and trapped.

"It's brighter out than you think." Algrim was still speaking, and the sound of his voice steadied her. It felt strange to hear so clearly when her face was completely sealed off. "It will shield your sight, and you won't stand out so much if there's danger." He sealed his own mask in place, and they turned toward the opening hatch.

Khaleen stared around as they stepped out. They had landed in the strangest forest she had ever seen. Trees the size of skyscrapers towered around them, rising thousands of feet overhead, while the ground between the trunks lay almost completely bare. Distant hootings and rustlings broke the silence. Khaleen had never spent much time in the woods; this place made her want to crawl back into the harrow and hide.

"Look," hissed one of the guards. A group of people had come into view, climbing over the root system of the nearest tree. It took Khaleen a long moment to realize that they were elves. Their hair was darker, and varied wildly in color compared to the uniform white of the Dark Elves; it hung loose behind them and – were those plants growing out of it? The newcomers were clad in kilts and tunics that left their limbs bare, and their feet were bare, too. They carried bows and spears slung across their backs, but their hands were empty. They stopped about twenty feet from the harrow and their leader called out a greeting.

"Hail, strangers!" His face danced with cheer, like Silas in his more annoying moods. "We are sent by Alflyse to bring you in to Gimla. Be welcome in our home!"

Khaleen wondered how to respond. "Greetings, friends," she began, but the leader cut her off.

"The feast is being laid even now in your honor! We must not be late. Follow us!" And with that, they took off over the tree roots. Khaleen stared after them, her mouth open behind her mask. Beside her, Algrim shook his head.

"Wood elves," he said. "Children of the forest. They at least will do us no harm."

They followed the troop over the uneven ground between the huge boles. Before long, the stand in which they'd landed gave way to a denser forest of smaller trees. A well-worn track led through it, flanked by scrubby underbrush. After the third time tripping over a root, Khaleen gave up and took her mask off. She immediately realized that Algrim had been right; the light felt like daggers in her eyes, after months spent in the dimness of the Ark. She ground her teeth and kept walking.

The wood elves kept dashing far ahead and doubling back, singing all the time. Their songs seemed to have been made up on the spot, and most involved their Dark Elvish guests. Khaleen wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or amused by the banter; if her men took offence, they said nothing.

After what felt like several miles, the wood elves stopped. By this time the blinding white blur had begun to resolve itself into shapes, and Khaleen could begin to make out their surroundings. The ground had risen, and they were now standing at the top of a hill overlooking a wide valley. Beyond it rose a series of foothills, giving way to a range of snow-capped peaks in the distance. Below in the valley, there seemed to be some sort of structure set into the opposite hillside. Khaleen thought she saw movement near it.

"That is Gimla," said the leader of the wood elves. He was the tallest of his people, but Khaleen could still look down on the top of his head. "See how they gather! Your coming is greatly rejoiced over."

The road into the valley was well-marked and smooth, running fairly straight over the rolling terrain. Predictably, the wood elves disappeared down it, but by now they no longer had to guide their guests. As they followed the road, Khaleen became aware of people nearby, stopping what they were doing to stare at them. There were houses built in the trees and the sides of hills, and the woods began to be organized into gardens and orchards. A child, only a few years old, scampered up as they passed and waved a chubby hand in greeting before shoving it back into his mouth.

"These people have not seen war for many long years," Versang murmured.

At last the road came to a low rise that concealed their end from view. They were nearly there; more people than ever watched from the side of the road, and they could hear the sounds of a large crowd up ahead. They had a last glimpse of their guides, waving ecstatically from the top of the ridge before disappearing over it. Algrim halted the company to form up before beginning the final approach.

Khaleen felt someone approach behind her, turned, and nearly jumped. It was Reshlem.

"Your men are with you to the end,  _vörthih_ ," he said.

She nodded, at a loss for what to say; but even coming from someone like Reshlem, the words steadied her. She took her place at the head of the column, head held high.

At the top of the ridge, they paused to get their bearings. A huge crowd – there must have been over a thousand – had assembled to see them. There were wild-haired wood elves and stubby gnomes, as well as another kind of elf: taller and pale haired, and generally better dressed than their counterparts. A path had been kept clear through the midst of the crowd; the other end lay at the foot of the structure Khaleen had seen earlier.

"There are warriors over there. Guards, maybe," Davitheen muttered.

Khaleen frowned at the distant figures; her eyes were still weak. "I think that's my grandmother."

"You can see them? Bare-eyed?"

"Yes." Stored-up resentment finally got the better of her, and she added in a voice that only he could hear, "I'm not as blind as you think, Davitheen, or as deaf. I know what you've been saying in the mess about Algrim, about me." She didn't flinch from the blank lenses of his mask; he began to shift uncomfortably. "He is your commander, and you are both my subjects. That should be enough for you." At that moment, there was the sound of trumpets being blown. Before anyone could ask what she'd said to Davitheen, she turned back to the road and began her march.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Äshlimär, athu: Greetings, friend.


	18. Gimla

The crowd drew back as they passed. Khaleen heard their whispers but didn't turn to look. As she drew closer, she was able to make out their goal. Broad steps lead up to a carved stone door with flowers and vines all around, spilling from fissures in the rock. A line of guards, masked and veiled, flanked a tall woman on the top step. Her unbound hair was white. Khaleen stopped at the foot of the steps, heart hammering. She blinked back the dazzling light and wondered what to say in front of the crowd.

The woman on the steps saved her the trouble.

"At last! The daughter of my daughter returns to me!" She threw her arms open in Khaleen's direction. Khaleen hesitated, but the other woman sprang down the stairs and threw her arms around her, hugging her tight before turning to address the crowd.

"Behold, upon this day a child of my house returns to her own. Rejoice with me, my people, for what was lost has been found!" Then, in a lower voice, "Come, Khaleen, bring your men into my house. We will talk more in private."

* * *

The cool shade of the house washed over Khaleen the moment she stepped through the door, bringing relief to her growing headache. Doors swung shut behind them, shutting out the noise of the crowd, and Alflyse turned to face them. With her flowing hair and white dress, the resemblance to Violet was clear.

"Know that you are quite safe here," she said to the company. "My people will not harm you. I, too, am of Harudheen, and I will suffer no harm to come to my brother's people." She turned to one of the attendant guards – Khaleen noticed that they were all female – and said something to her in another language, at which the woman bowed and disappeared down a corridor. "Food and drink will be brought for you all."

"My lady," Algrim spoke up. "It pains me to report that your brother is no longer among us. He fell in battle nearly a score of weeks ago."

"Yes." Alflyse didn't seem surprised; it was as if she already knew and had accepted the fact. "But we both knew what was coming, from the moment he awoke."

Algrim bowed low. "The power of your house is strong in you, Princess Alflyse."

"Oh, come, Algrim. We were friends once. You need not be so formal." She took a step toward him and raised a hand, which he seemed to take as a sign to remove his mask. Alflyse took in the sight of his face. "You were not always so grave. You look now as one older than I."

"War and years have brought me much grief. Almost as much as they have brought you beauty and wisdom."

She smiled. "I do not wonder that my brother valued your friendship so highly before the end; only that it took him so long to accept it."

As Khaleen watched the exchange, something occurred to her that she should have realized before. She saw her chance and spoke up before she could reconsider. "Grandmother – Princess Alflyse…" She wasn't sure how to proceed. Taking a deep breath, she tried to put what she had to say in the older, formalized way of speaking. "You are before me in the line of descent. If you wish to lead the  _Älfeneel_ , I will step aside. It is your place, not mine…" A murmur ran through the  _geileel_. Khaleen's voice sounded thin in her own ears. She wished everyone would stop staring at her. But Alflyse smiled.

"You are brave to offer me this, brave and honorable. But I will not accept. I left my birthright behind long ago, although I do not hold my children bound by my decision." The attendant whom she had dismissed returned and stood silent in the doorway through which she had left. "All is in readiness," Alflyse said. "Come."

They were led into a large room, lit only by a low fire in a hearth. Despite the lack of light, flowering plants grew from the walls and ceiling, and something like moss covered the floor. Food had been laid out on low tables for the men; but Khaleen and Algrim were led aside by Alflyse into a small room. Khaleen's heart skipped a beat at being separated from the others, but each room could see well into the other and there was no door to bar the way. Inside was a small table of food, along with three crystal cups. Alflyse filled each of the cups from a pitcher and gave them to her guests. Algrim raised his before taking a sip, as if toasting, and Khaleen tried to copy him. Whatever Alflyse had given them was sweet and fruity, and might have been some kind of wine. There was bread, too, and more kinds of fruit than Khaleen had known existed. She chose a green and gold piece the size of an apple and took a cautious bite, then another, glad to be away from the monochrome diet of the Ark.

For several minutes they didn't speak. After a while Khaleen noticed that Alflyse had finished and was watching them, a soft smile on her face. She swallowed hastily and sat back.

"You needn't hurry," Alflyse assured her. "But when you are ready, I would have you tell me of our family. How are your mother and brother? How fares Amberle's child?"

Khaleen's last bite of bread glued itself to the roof of her mouth. She cast around hastily for some good news to give. "Amberle had two kids, Silas and Violet. They're back on the Ark; I wouldn't let them come in case, you know, we ran into trouble on the way… You'll like them. They take after their mom, especially Vi."

Alflyse's eyes widened in delight. "Two children? When last I spoke to Amberle she expected only a single child."

"That was Silas. Vi was born a year later."

"Alas that I missed their births." Alflyse sat back. "Is Kelith your brother not with you? And what of Maedh, my daughter? What word of them do you bring?"

"I – " Khaleen's chest felt tight. Algrim was staring at her. She reached for her drink, took too large a gulp, and choked. As she finished sputtering, she realized that Alflyse was still watching her.

"Khaleen." Her voice was grave. "Tell me."

"They're dead." The words fell out, flat and heavy. "At least – I think Kelly is. I know Maedh and Amberle are."

Alflyse's face wore a look of controlled, almost forced, passivity. "Yes; Amberle's death I knew, as I knew my brother's. I have mourned her these years past. But I knew nothing of Maedh, nor of her son."

_Amberle's death I knew._  Khaleen barely heard anything past this. Her insides twisted, and she gripped the edge of the table. Algrim must have noticed her distress, because he reached across the table and laid a hand on her arm; she looked up with a start and met his eye.

"Khaleen." There was an edge in Alflyse's voice now. She closed her eyes and seemed to will herself calm. "Tell me: what became of Kelith and Maedh?"

Something brushed against Khaleen's mind that had the effect of a cool breath of air. Her breathing eased and she became more aware of where she was. She closed her eyes, focusing on the weight of Algrim's hand: Algrim, who had lost a hundred battles and still had the will to fight, who had seen her at her absolute worst and not given her up – if no one else stuck with her, he would. She opened her eyes.

"Kelly's was right before I joined the Ark. We – we trusted the wrong people, back on Earth. He got blown up. I couldn't go back for him; there was no time. I'd have lost Silas and Vi." Consciously, she unclenched her hand. "Maedh – Maedh got what she deserved."

Alflyse started at the heat in Khaleen's voice. Now it was her turn to grip the edge of the table. Khaleen didn't meet her gaze. When she didn't elaborate, Algrim tried to explain.

"Maedh attacked some sort of Midgardian authority and was put to death for it –"

Khaleen waved her hand, motioning for him to be quiet. "No. There's more." She chose her words carefully. "My dad – you knew Ryan Donovan – died when I was ten. I think Maedh started to go crazy after that. She was into this weird cult or something – they freaked me out, so I just tried to stay away from them. There… there was some bad stuff going on. After Kelly and me were on our own, we heard they tried to take over this office building or something. Didn't work, but… there was this cop that got shot and killed. News made it sound like Maedh did it herself. They cornered her a couple blocks away, shot up an intersection. She was pronounced dead at the scene." Her ears were ringing and there was no emotion in her voice. Algrim's mouth hung open. Across the table, Alflyse sat back with her eyes closed and her face tight.

" _Lainiliki_ ," she breathed.

Khaleen looked down at her hands. She had forgotten that Alflyse had not seen what she had in the years since her visit.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, unsure of how to react.

"Did you at least mourn her, as a daughter ought?"

Khaleen's hands clenched again. She opened her mouth but felt like all the wind had been knocked out of her. It took a moment for her to find her voice; then she began speaking all at once.

"Maedh was a murderer. Amberle tried to stop her; she didn't deserve what she got. I mourned for  _Amberle._ " She started to get up but Algrim's hand on her forearm kept her in place. She glared at him; his eyes were wide and his mouth was set in a line. He shook his head at her.

For a long moment after the outburst, Alflyse said nothing. Khaleen fully expected her to return fire, to demand how she could say something like that; instead, she stood up abruptly.

"Please, continue to eat," she murmured. Her eyes drifted over them, not really seeing. "I must take my leave a while." And she left, disappearing through a side door.

Only then did Algrim release Khaleen's arm. Her head buzzed, and she placed it in her hands, leaning on the table. She wished Alflyse had never asked about her mother.

"You never told me how Amberle died," Algrim said after a long moment.

"She was murdered," Khaleen replied, sitting up. "I was thirteen." Again, the images swam before her eyes: the body slumped against the cabinets, the patterns the blood had made on the tiles. She pushed them away; she was too tired for this. "Please, I don't want to talk about it any more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lainiliki: my children.


	19. True Kingship

When Alflyse returned, she was composed and made no mention of their conversation. Khaleen's retinue was given accommodations in a wing of her house – which turned out to be extensive – and Khaleen borrowed the communications equipment to send a message back to the Ark. Alflyse extended her hospitality to the whole crew, and she told Khaleen about a valley, less than a mile to the south, and deep enough to conceal the Ark from unfriendly eyes. A simple enchantment would make them invisible to Asgardian watchers.

As the party containing the two young royals approached Gimla, Khaleen went out to meet them, accompanied by Alflyse and a retinue of her guard. There were nearly as many onlookers in the field as when Khaleen had arrived, and as the two groups came together, Silas walked up to his cousin and hugged her. It was an odd gesture for him to make in public; Khaleen guessed that someone had coached him to make the display.

"I'm glad you're okay," he whispered before pulling away. Khaleen noticed his eyes dart to Reshlem and the other  _geileel_. "I was worried."

"There's nothing to worry about," Khaleen whispered back. Turning back toward Alflyse, she moved so that she stood between her cousins. "Grandmother, may I present Silas Walker, son of Andrew and Amberle Walker, and their daughter, Violet. They're like my own brother and sister, and Silas is my heir."

Alflyse embraced each of them. "Welcome, children of Amberle my daughter. Know that you and all your people are welcome here."

Night was falling, and as they entered Alflyse's halls, Khaleen noticed lights in some of the front rooms. While Algrim went with the men, the cousins were led to a spacious guest room with a table of food, which Silas tucked into immediately. Violet focused less on her supper; she had been staring at Alflyse in shy wonder since they arrived.

"It brings me joy to see you here at last," Alflyse said after a while. "But I wonder what brought you here now. I sense that there is some trouble between you and your men." She glanced at Khaleen.

"Umm…" Khaleen spun a piece of fruit between her fingers and nearly dropped it.

Silas glanced at her and spoke up. "Some of the officers have been talking against Leena. We were worried they'd try something on the way down here."

Khaleen sighed. Part of her had hoped to put off talking about their troubles. "That's why we came, to kind of make a statement and get back to our roots, that kind of thing. We'd kinda hoped to get your advice, too."

Alflyse frowned. "What have the men been saying?"

With help from Silas, Khaleen explained their precarious situation, her decision not to pursue the Aether, and the rumors regarding her and Algrim. "I spoke to some of them on the way here," she added. "Whatever the officers say, I'm pretty sure the men are behind me. Even Reshlem." Silas scowled at the mention of Reshlem. Alflyse looked concerned.

"A warrior of Harudheen would never try to oppose the rightful queen." She took a long look at Khaleen. "Tell me how you came into your place."

"They picked us up right after Malekith… you know. Algrim figured out who we were, and he asked me to be like a figurehead or something. Then he dressed me up, told me what to say, and they all saluted, so I was queen after that."

Alflyse nodded. "What ordeals did you pass?"

"Ordeals?"

"That explains it," Alflyse said.

"Wait, what ordeals?" Khaleen demanded. "Was there something I was supposed to do?"

"According to the customs of the  _Älfeneel_ , one does not begin to rule without passing a test to prove one's worthiness."

Khaleen began to feel uneasy. "What kind of test?"

"If the previous king is still alive, one might challenge for the throne. If the challenger wins the combat, he becomes king. In cases like yours, there may be a pilgrimage or a vigil; something to prove your mettle…"

"Oh." Khaleen and Silas glanced apprehensively at each other.

"That is the likely reason for the insubordination you've faced. Algrim was foolish to allow you to assume authority without a proper ordeal."

Khaleen bristled. It bothered her to hear someone call Algrim foolish. Alflyse didn't seem to notice.

"This matter must be resolved at once, and publicly. It is well that you came to me; I doubt at this point that anyone within the crew has the authority to bring forth a solution." Alflyse strode back and forth, thinking aloud. "Yes, yes, I think that must be. There is no one meaningful for you to fight, and there are no great sites left which you could visit without endangering your men. So there can be neither combat nor pilgrimage; it must be a vigil. Khaleen, assemble your men and prepare yourself. The ordeal of your coronation begins tomorrow."

* * *

A quarter mile from Alflyse's door, in the same slope into which her house was built, a tiny cell had been carved out, reached by a narrow shaft in the hillside. Alflyse used the cell when she needed to be alone, to think and meditate. Tonight it would be the site of Khaleen's ordeal.

At sundown the crew gathered before the hill to wait for their queen. Only a handful had been left behind to guard the Ark. They were joined by many of Alflyse's people; the inhabitants of the valley were enjoying the unusual goings on.

At the entrance to the shaft stood Khaleen. She wasn't sure what Alflyse had meant by "prepare yourself," so she had spent the day getting ready as best as she could. She had washed – after months on the Ark she had nearly forgotten how to bathe in water – and Violet had braided her hair, and she had stepped out in the austere finery of her people. Her cousins and Algrim were with her; the other officers stood a little way down the hill. Alflyse stood to one side, holding a bowl of burning incense. Khaleen stared at the shaft in the hill, trying not to fidget, not to lock her knees, not to hold her breath. She wished she could stay outside, where the air and the piercing light reminded her that she was alive and sane. She had no idea what would happen to her once she passed the threshold and began her vigil. A small, irrational part of her kept suggesting that she wouldn't come out at all.

The suns dipped below the horizon. "It is time," Alflyse said. "You must begin."

"What will I see?" Khaleen couldn't keep the fear out of her voice.

"What you must see," Alflyse answered. She held out the bowl of incense. "Breath, and go in."

Khaleen inhaled deeply. Whatever was in the bowl smelled sweet and sharp; it calmed her nerves. Opening her eyes, she steeled herself and went in.

The entrance was so low that she had to stoop to pass it, and the shaft itself was barely wider than Khaleen's shoulders. The ceiling was high enough that crawling didn't seem necessary, but it was too low to stand upright, which made the going awkward. After twenty or thirty yards it ended in a tiny chamber with bare stone walls. Khaleen's eyes adjusted to the dark, but the silence weighed on her. She felt sealed off, as if the chamber was a cocoon, or maybe a womb. She might have panicked, but the perfume of the incense still clung to her; she focused on it and let it calm her nerves. Settling into a kneeling position, she closed her eyes and tried to quiet her thoughts.

Long moments passed in which Khaleen tried not to think about the passage of time. Eventually she decided that it might be appropriate to pray. In her present circumstance, she wasn't quite sure how to do that; but she'd seen formal prayers made once or twice. She tried to imitate what she'd seen others do.

_Our Father, who art in heaven…_

She was trying to remember what came after "thy will be done" when she felt a change. She opened her eyes – or maybe they stayed shut, but she began to see nonetheless. She wasn't in the cell anymore; she seemed to be outside, on a broad, flat expanse of ground, surrounded on all sides by mist, and she was standing. Turning in a circle, she began to wonder where she was; then she caught sight of the figure seated directly behind her and started. She had seen that face staring out of a hologram a hundred times; it was Malekith. He was kneeling, as she had been, and his eyes stared past her. Without acknowledging her presence, he spoke:

"True kingship comes from but one source."

Khaleen backed away and turned to leave, but came abruptly upon another figure in the mist. This time it was a woman, standing and proudly staring past Khaleen, and she spoke the same words.

"True kingship comes from but one source."

Khaleen bolted into the mist and nearly collided with the figure of a tall, powerful man seated on a carved throne. He was darker than Malekith, but the harsh, proud angles in his face told Khaleen who he was: Kitharn, the father of Malekith and Alflyse. In a booming baritone, he spoke as the others had:

"True kingship comes from but one source."

Everywhere she turned in the mist they were there, and she knew them: kings and queens and Aether-keepers, great and small, going back ages beyond count. Every one spoke the same words, as if trying to impart some hard-won lesson:

"True kingship comes from but one source."

Khaleen panicked; she was hemmed in. She saw an opening and made for it, but found it blocked by the figure of a wild-eyed woman with blood on her face and blood on her hands: Maedh.

"True kingship comes from but one source."

Khaleen covered her face and screamed, willing with all her might to be somewhere else. Feathers erupted from her arms and she lept into the air. She had become a bird – a raven. Far and fast she fled, the words of the specters echoing after her.

"True kingship comes from but one source!"

The ground rushed up at her and she landed in a heap, herself again. The voices had stopped, but there was something else here. She felt its presence more strongly than all the others. She climbed to her feet, and then in dismay she saw it: there was light here, brighter than a star! Khaleen threw her arms over her face and cried out, wondering that she did not die; for the light struck her like a wind, and she was a Dark Elf.

After a moment she became aware that the light was coming from a figure. Another long moment, and she realized that she could look at the figure, in spite of the light; nonetheless, she didn't dare. There was something in his face – she was certain it was a man – that she identified as goodness, wholeness. There was nothing wrong with him at all; but there was plenty wrong with her. Alone of all the figures he was looking at her, and under the weight of his gaze Khaleen trembled as from shock and fell to the ground. It was as though everything she had ever called good and wholesome had been the soda and saltines fed to a queasy stomach, and now suddenly she had encountered real food. It was unendurable.

"Who are you?" she gasped.

"True kingship comes from but one source." The words were different when he spoke them, and his tone reminded her of her father, kind and patient, helping her with her homework so long ago. "Look up, Khaleen. I am that Source."


	20. For Life and Love

Night had passed, and the day had followed it, and Khaleen still had not come out of the hillside. As the suns dipped toward the horizon, Silas sat near the entrance and wondered how long this was going to take. Alflyse seemed unconcerned by her granddaughter's long absence; she had waived off Silas's concerns throughout the day and now sat with her attendants as if presiding over a picnic. He was more inclined to trust Algrim's reaction. The commander had gotten up around midday and begun pacing in the narrow opening, his brow knit. Every so often he would glance at Silas, then at the entrance to the shaft, and the boy knew they were thinking the same thing: what if something was wrong? What if she needed help? How could they know if she was all right?

Towards daybreak someone had set up awnings for the Dark Elves, and it made the outdoor vigil a little more bearable. Blakavar had climbed up to join them, and he sat now with Violet. They were talking together in low tones, Violet reassuring him. She wasn't worried; then again, she had always trusted Khaleen's abilities. Silas wondered if her confidence was not misplaced. A moment later he caught himself wondering what Khaleen would say if she knew about his own lack of confidence. He half-wished she were there to get upset.

He shifted on his seat, trying to find a part of his backside that wasn't sore. Alflyse had had a folding chair brought up, but there was nothing for the rest of them to sit on but rocks. Abruptly, Algrim stopped pacing.

"We should not have sent her in there," he said to Alflyse. The lady lowered her fan and looked up at him. "She's too young! We should at least have given her a few tens of years to grow up."

"You did not have tens of years," Alflyse replied. "You did not even have until the end of this one."

"But she's a child!"

"You do her a disservice to call her that." Alflyse raised her fan again. "Those pale eyes come from mixed blood, not immaturity. She is older for her time than you think."

Algrim let out a snort and clenched his fists. No one spoke, and Silas sat up, wondering what the captain would do.

At that moment the last sun disappeared below the horizon and there was a movement at the entrance to the shaft. They all sprang to their feet, and a ripple went out from them through the assembled onlookers. A hand appeared, grasping the stone lintel, then a head of pale braids emerged. It was Khaleen.

Alflyse took a step forward as she straightened up, and for the first time concern showed in her face. Khaleen didn't look at her at first; she seemed dazed, and Silas wondered if she'd been sick inside. But then she met their eyes, and what he saw there wasn't illness, it was wonder, joy even: like a new mother with her baby, or lovers unexpectedly reunited.

"Grandmother," she breathed. "I saw – "

The old princess held up a hand. "What was seen was for you alone."

Algrim pushed his way forward. "My queen," he said. For a moment it looked like he was going to embrace her, but he restrained himself and bowed down on one knee. The other officers, who had crowded up behind him, followed suit. Khaleen watched them gravely; for once, the display did not seem to make her uncomfortable.

"Arise," she said, stretching out a hand, and the regal gesture seemed to suit her. As they stood, the officers stepped back to make a way. Alflyse motioned, and she and Khaleen walked forward until they could be seen by the entire crowd.

"Behold!" the old princess cried. "Khaleen,  _Vorth Älfenäseel!_  Khaleen, the Queen of the Elves!"

* * *

There was a feast that night upon the meadow before Alflyse's house. Huge bonfires had been kindled and creatures like overgrown warthogs had been slaughtered and were roasting over beds of coals. The Dark Elves were hesitant to mingle with Alflyse's people; it took a lot of encouragement, but between their officers and the settlement's children, they finally began to disperse in groups of two or three among the fires. The children in particular seemed to draw them out, perhaps because of the novelty they presented, or perhaps because they reminded the  _geileel_  of happier times with their own lost families.

For their part, the elves of Gimla welcomed their guests warmly. Laughing Wood Elves flitted from fire to fire, trying to get the dancing started early or coax shy Dark Elves out of their masks. The Grey Elves – they were the taller, fair-haired people who comprised the greater part of the settlement – were more composed. They sat by family around the great fires, and a Dark Elf wandering the gathering was likely to be greeted from every side with "Come, come! Sit with us!" A group of Grey Elves had arrived during the vigil, and Alflyse had arranged a meeting between Khaleen and their leader, a close friend of hers.

Khaleen had been walking among the fires, seeing to her people. As she returned to Alflyse's fire she caught sight of a man she didn't recognize sitting beside her grandmother. Both rose to greet her as she approached, and the man bowed.

"My daughter, this is Vespalder, chieftain of the Wandering Grey Elves. Long have they held the friendship of Gimla."

Khaleen placed her hand over her heart and inclined her head, according to the greeting she'd seen among the Grey Elves. "The friend of Alflyse is my friend also."

_"Äshlimär!"_  Khaleen started at the sound of her own language. Vespalder smiled. "Here is a wonder the like of which I have not seen. One of the  _Älfeneel_ stands under the sky of Gimla and speaks words of friendship!" He took her hands and bowed again. "I am most pleased to meet you, Lady of the House of Kitharn."

No less startling than his use of shivaisith was the look of kindness and welcome when she met his eyes. Having searched the galaxy and found nothing but enemies, Khaleen realized she had stumbled upon a friend.

Folding chairs had been set out for Alflyse, Khaleen, and Vespalder, while cushions and blankets served as seats for the others. Algrim had taken a seat on a sawed-off end of wood, keeping a wary eye on the proceedings. Khaleen still felt a little overwhelmed by what she had seen during her vigil; though the feast was in her honor, she allowed herself to sit apart from the festivities and observe. Alflyse and Vespalder were speaking in low tones, and Khaleen took the opportunity to study the Grey Elf more carefully. It was hard to tell, but she had the impression from him of great age, as though he were at least as old as her grandmother. She also had the impression of an understanding between the two of them; the looks that passed between Alflyse and Vespalder were not unlike those that passed between Violet and Blakavar.

At length the two finished their conversation and Alflyse stood. Smiling at Khaleen, who was trying desperately to pretend she had not been watching them, she moved off to attend to some business of her own. Khaleen decided to give conversation a try.

"So how long are you here?" She wondered if that was the right thing to say to a potential ally. If Vespalder saw anything wrong with it, he made no sign.

"Not long. My sons and I wished to leave some things with Lady Alflyse for safe-keeping, then we meant to be on our way. Mine are not a settled people. But with your people here, I think we might stay longer than planned…" He looked out past their circle to the other fires. Khaleen followed his gaze. Dancing had begun around a neighboring fire; Violet and Blakavar whirled together, accompanied by a number of other  _geileel_ , who had joined hands with Grey Elvish girls. Khaleen blinked in surprise.

"Sir, I'll speak to my officers and put a stop to this –"

"There's no need. I take no offence." Vespalder put out a hand to calm her. "Unless you have some reason of your own for keeping your men from wooing wives for themselves."

"I –" She sat back down. "You mean you're okay with your daughters taking up with a bunch of Dark Elf soldiers?"

"We do not often marry within our own company," he explained. "If one of my daughters wishes to wed a man of good character, why should I object?"

Khaleen stared at him. "I don't know if anyone told you," she said, "but we're not exactly the cool kids right now. Most people out there would be totally okay with us going extinct."

"The opinions of the many do not determine what is right." Vespalder's gaze shifted to the fire, then back to Khaleen. "I know that you are hated, and I know why. And I will tell you, from the actions of your forebearers, that hatred is not without warrant. But I would put out my hand to save even my enemy, if it were in my power. And things are not now as they were. If my people have the power to keep yours from extinction, is it right that I hold them back from that honor?"

Khaleen stared at the coals. "How do you know we won't just drag you down with us?"

"I do not. But that is the nature of all mighty deeds. To win great good, one must risk terrible loss. Even the least of your people knows this."

"Are we worth that risk to you?"

"Yes. That is the glory of a king, to show mercy. It is a tree that never fails to give fruit."

Khaleen stared out at the dancing couples. The wind must have blown the smoke around, because her eyes had begun to prickle. "My people are indebted to you."

Vespalder's tone was kind. "There are no debts between friends."

For a long time neither spoke. Across the fire, Algrim kept watch, glancing now and again at Khaleen.

At length Vespalder spoke again. "I knew the people of Harudheen in the time before the Great War. They were honorable, if at times misguided. But I think the years of misguiding have come to an end with you." He was watching Khaleen. She hung her head.

"I wish you were right, sir. But I'm not a leader, let alone a good one. It's a complete accident that I'm even here."

"It is no accident. The mighty do not receive their power of their own accord. A true king knows this."

Something echoed back through her mind. She met Vespalder's eye. "True kingship…" She let it trail off. He nodded.

"You begin to understand. That is the nature of the universe, from before its birth. The weak moves the mighty; that which is not shames that which is. From nothing, you have become queen; from nothing, the  _Älfeneel_  will become a people again. It is not on your purpose, but it is on purpose."

Khaleen felt a shiver run through her, like the shiver that runs through ice when it begins to melt. "Why us? What do we have to do?"

"I cannot tell you that."

Khaleen looked at the fire, then up, through the flames and past them. She could see Violet and Blakavar, standing close together, with eyes only for each other.

"I want life for my people, not vengeance and death. I will become for them a shield and a flame, and if it is in my power, I will find them a home." She turned to Vespalder. "Will your people be willing to dwell with us then? Mine are not wanderers by nature."

"We will," he said. "For life and for love, my people are willing."


	21. Pökke Tifilevel

"What were you discussing last night with the Grey Elves' chief? You were in conference for a long time." In the darkness of Alflyse's house, Versang had removed his mask. Khaleen wondered why he looked so concerned.

"We talked about the future, and he gave me some advise. He says his people are willing to make an alliance with ours."

The surgeon nodded. "That was generous, but I can't see how it is useful. The Grey Elves are not warriors."

"I wasn't looking for warriors. We have enough for our own defense, as long as we're careful. What we need now are friends, and better yet, families."

Versang looked perplexed. "Families…?"

Khaleen nodded. "Vespalder's agreed to allow his people to marry into ours, if they can find husbands. The way things were going last night, I don't think they'll have any trouble."

"But… wives and children will slow us down – " He followed Khaleen as she started down the hall.

"Once we get settled it won't be an issue."

"You mean to settle us here?"

"Not here. I'm hoping to find some place out of the way, without a lot of light, maybe underground… This place is fine for Alflyse, but I don't think the men would be comfortable."

The surgeon considered this. "I suppose you're right. But I don't imagine comfort matters that much during a war, as long as the advantage is maintained."

Khaleen laughed. "Versang, that's what I'm getting at. We're done with the war, at least as much as it's our choice. We're settling down and coming clean."

Versang stopped dead, then ran to catch up to Khaleen. "But my queen, Asgard is still out there –"

"Asgard can drop dead."

"But would you not have a hand in making that happen?"

"No. I'd rather have a hand in the men surviving. There aren't enough of us left to keep fighting."

"You cannot accept defeat! You cannot deny the men their vengeance and their birthright!"

"Actually I can, and for the sake of our children's children, I just did."

"Is this the legacy of the House of Kitharn?" he demanded. "That a coward become the heir of Malekith the Accursed?"

Khaleen stopped and turned to stare at him. Versang's teeth were bared and his face was drawn. He started to speak again and she cut him off.

_"Kir ar vörtne,_  Versang," she said. "I am your queen. I have made the decision."

Versang jerked like he'd been slapped. They stared at each other, neither speaking. Footsteps echoed in a side corridor and Algrim emerged. The surgeon glanced at him, turned on his heel, and left.

"What was that about?" Algrim asked.

"I have no idea." There wasn't time to dwell on Versang's strange behavior. She was due to meet with Alflyse and Vespalder. She turned and hurried the rest of the way down the hall.

They found Alflyse in the spacious room where they had first been entertained. Davitheen and Silas were there as well, and Vespalder, who was accompanied by another elf who looked enough like him that they must have been related.

"Where's Versang?" Davitheen asked as they entered. "He's late."

"He went back to the ship," Khaleen said, although she didn't really know that. "I don't think he'll be joining us today."

"That's a pity," Vespalder said. "He more than any would be interested in what we mean to show you."

"There is a vault on the other side of this valley," Alflyse added. "There we have stored what Vespalder brought here for safe-keeping."

"What did you bring?" Khaleen asked.

"Many things," the old chief smiled. "Things that we have built." He motioned to the other elf, who stepped forward and bowed. "This is my son, Anhevin. He is a maker and inventor; he has made many things, both from his own mind and from what we have found on our travels."

"There is a passage beneath the floor of the valley," said Alflyse. "We may go that way, out of the sun."

It was perhaps a two-mile walk, and the passage was unlit. Khaleen found her way in the dark easily, but she wondered about the Grey Elves. She found herself walking beside Anhevin, and decided to ask.

"It is all well," he said. "We can see nearly as well as your folk in the dark."

"Are you guys somehow related to us?"

"Some say so. But then, all elves are kin, going back to the beginning. And the mortal men, as well, or half-elves like you could not be."

"But you can see in the light just as well."

"Yes. We do not belong wholly to either the light or the dark. We are twilit people, keepers of the doors between worlds. We belong to the Dusk, as the Bright Elves belong to the Day and the Dark Elves belong to the Night."

"I guess belonging to the Dusk is better than straight up belonging to the Dark Side."

Anhevin glanced at her. "You speak of the Dark as though it is evil."

"Well, isn't it?"

"No. Darkness and Light have existed from the Beginning. Evil came later, when what was good became crooked."

"On Midgard, they talk about Night being the time when bad things come out."

"Perhaps that is because they who were guardians of the Night turned from their watch and allowed evil to flourish there. The same may happen when the people of the Day are not vigilant."

The thought stuck in Khaleen's mind and she slowed down. Algrim nearly walked into her.

_"Ljääl!"_

"Sorry!"

After a moment she spoke again. "So, what you're saying – we aren't the monsters in the dark, we were supposed to keep the monsters away."

"I think so. Although he who fails to oppose evil may himself become evil. But that was not your original purpose."

Khaleen began to slow down again. This time Anhevin put a hand on her shoulder to keep her going.

"It is like this," he explained. "The bat does not live its life by day; it flies in the night, in the darkness. The bird may not fly in the night; it lives its life by day. One is not better than the other; both do only what they were created to do. If the bat were lost, we would suffer as much as from the loss of the bird."

"And the Dark Elves, who can't live in the light…"

"You were not born to do so. You were created to fill the Night with life and warmth, that good things might be found there. Just as the Bright Elves were created to fill and make lovely the Day. We nearly lost you once, and all the universe has suffered for it."

For a long time neither spoke. The low sounds of Alflyse's and Vespalder's conversation drifted back to them. At last, Khaleen timidly spoke up.

"Do you think we could be that again?" They were nearly at the end of the tunnel. Anhevin didn't hesitate.

"Of course."

The tunnel opened and they stepped out. They were in a narrow, rocky valley, shielded from direct sunlight by its high walls. At the end, set into a cliff face, was a carved doorway like the entrance to Alflyse's house. Casting a last smile at Vespalder, the princess walked toward it with Anhevin, while the others followed at a slower pace. As they stepped over the threshold, Algrim surveyed the architecture and snorted.

"Asgardian!"

"Yes," said Alflyse. "I found it when I first came here. They seem to have built it during the Great War."

"What did they keep here?" Khaleen wondered.

"Nothing, it seems. Whatever they built it for, they never used it. I had to finish the rear-most portions myself." Alflyse laid a hand on the stone wall and whispered something, and pale lines ran from it across the wall and the floor, dimly illuminating the passage. It was wide enough for three of them to walk abreast, and doors opened off it onto small chambers. A hundred yards on, the passage opened up into a vaulted room big enough to land a Harrow in. Khaleen turned in a circle, her breath hanging in a cloud as she tried to take it all in. The floor was littered with draped piles the size of furniture. Anhevin went to one and picked up a delicate-looking sphere the size of a softball. He blew on it, and it began to glow faintly. By its light, he took hold of the large cloth covering the pile and pulled it off.

"What is it?" Khaleen wondered. The thing under the cloth reminded her of a large bug, with an elongated body and huge delicate-looking wings spread out in front. Halfway along the body there was a saddle-shaped structure that made Khaleen think that the thing was meant to be ridden.

"It is a flying machine," Anhevin explained. "Light powers it, sunlight or moonlight." He motioned to the wings. Khaleen stooped to look at them. Each one was made up of dozens of transparent panels that flashed iridescent in the dim light.

"Solar power?" Silas peered over his cousin's shoulder. "But if it can use moonlight, too – jeez, this is like the holy grail of solar power! Can you imagine?"

Anhevin smiled. Slowly, they made their way through the hall and down a corridor behind it, while Anhevin and Vespalder showed them the treasures stored there: data crystals full of notes and formulae; thin suits that could shield the wearer from the depths of space ("I got the idea from what was known of the Dark Elves, actually."); spheres full of growing plants that could purify water. One room seemed empty when they entered it; a low stone slab occupied the center of a labyrinth of thick copper lines. The hairs on the back of Khaleen's neck stood up.

"What is this?" she asked. Anhevin stepped to the door beside her.

"The design is my own, but the idea for this machine and its purpose were discovered in the ruins of an ancient world. It is a device for healing the sick and wounded."

"Right up Versang's alley," Silas observed. "Wish he could get a load of this. How's it work?"

"The one to be healed is placed there," he motioned to the slab, "and the controls are here." He pointed to the floor near the wall, where a series of translucent stone blocks stood out from the floor. "As for the theory – it's rather complicated, but suffice to say that the machine transfers the life energy of one being to another, giving it the strength needed to heal."

Davitheen, who had been examining the control blocks, jerked his hand back as if burned and muttered something about vampires, but Silas shook his head.

"It's like a blood donor, isn't it?" he asked. "It's something they do on Midgard. Doesn't have to take much to save a life."

"Has it ever been used?" Khaleen asked.

"Twice," Anhevin said. "We have been reluctant to let it become known. It can be abused, and even when used in good faith it can be dangerous. But here it will be safe. This place is under Alflyse's protection, and there are strong wards upon it."

The Grey Elves' treasures filled the storerooms halfway down the back corridor. Khaleen took a step inside the last one. Anhevin activated a projector and the room filled with a holographic star map. Algrim's jaw dropped when he saw it.

"It's nearly as good as the one in the War Palace in Harudheen," he breathed.

"It's not complete," Anhevin admitted. "I made the projector; my brothers have been compiling the rest, star by star."

"Have you been to all of these?"

"Most of them."

Algrim circled the map until he came to a particular star. "Harudheen," he said, tracking its progress with a hand. "In all the universe, there's nowhere like it."

Khaleen watched the hologram's slow rotation. "Nowhere like it," she echoed, but she was thinking. Billions of stars, millions of planets – and that was just what the Grey Elves had mapped. In all of this, there had to be a place for her people – if not exactly like Harudheen, then like it enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kir ar vörtne: I am your queen.
> 
> Ljääl: Please; used here to mean "excuse me."
> 
> Pökke tifilevel: storehouse; literally "house of things."


	22. Blood and Destiny

The Grey Elves took their leave at dusk two days later, to the disappointment of the  _geileel._  Khaleen stood beside Alflyse when they said their goodbyes on the steps of the princess's house.

"Remember what you stand for," Vespalder told her as they embraced. "Never forget why you are queen."

After they parted, the princess and the queen stood watching until a ship rose gracefully above the trees and turned toward them in salute before shimmering and vanishing under its cloak. Like the Dark Elves, the Grey Elves preferred to travel unseen.

When they were gone, Khaleen took her own leave for the night and returned to the Ark, giving orders for senior personnel to assemble on the bridge. She had been thinking hard over the past few days, and now was the time to act. She stared into the viewing mirror while they gathered, gazing at the dark Alfheim landscape under its many moons. Faint uncertainty lingered over what she was about to do, the form her actions would take. There was nothing she could do to help that. In time, perhaps, she would learn a better practice, but for now this was the best she could offer.

Algrim was the last to arrive, as was proper. Somehow she felt, rather than saw him enter, and turned to face the assembly. Blank-eyed masks stared back at her; per protocol, their faces remained covered. A far cry from her first assembly, Khaleen felt no fear. This was her place; she was queen, and these were her people. She took a deep breath and began.

The pattern she followed was informed by millennia of Dark Elvish tradition, gleaned from her reading and from questioning Algrim and Alflyse. " _Geileel_  of Harudheen," she began, "my brothers. When I first came to you, I pledged to serve the good of our people. I was young then; I did not understand what I said. I understand it now.

"Our people have dwindled. We have forgotten who we were meant to be, and from whence we received our power. Not since the early days of the reign of Kitharn have we humbled ourselves. Today we must do so, or we will die."

She paused now and removed the glove from her right hand. With her left, she drew the knife from her belt; it was the same one that Algrim had given her, on that long-ago day when she had finally decided to take her position seriously. She held the blade up before their eyes and closed her right hand around it.

"All you gathered here, and all powers and worlds, bear me witness! I am  _Vorth Alfenaseel_ , and from this day forth I will seek what is right and just above all else, and I will labor for the good of my people. I pledge this before the  _Vorthidheen,_ the King of over all kings, from whom I hold my power." With one quick motion she pulled the blade across her palm. Blood began to trickle from her closed fist and fall to the floor. "Let blood bear witness! If I break my oath, may I become accursed."

* * *

Summer nights passed quickly on Alfheim. Daybreak found Khaleen seated outside on a ridge overlooking the valley. She wore no mask, but stared out at the brightening horizon. Below her, boots crunched on stone and she turned to look. It was Algrim, climbing up to her.

"I wondered where you were," he said as he came nearer. "The sentry said you would not go far."

Khaleen smiled, and he came and sat next to her on the grass, leaning towards her slightly, like an eagle over its chick.

"I came up here to watch the sunrise," she explained. "I used to do that, back on Midgard. I'd go up on the roof of the building and watch the sun come up. It was almost quiet there, like the whole world was starting over again…"

For a few minutes they were silent.

"Does your hand pain you much?" Algrim asked.

"Not really. Vi put a dressing on it. Anyway, isn't the whole point of it to make me think of how I got it? You know, remind me of my oath?" She flexed her hand experimentally. Algrim smiled.

"You certainly made yourself clear."

Khaleen grew serious. "I talked to Vespalder about an alliance between us. I still mean to consult the council. What do you think? About the Grey Elves, I mean."

"I think that you are queen."

"Algrim, for God's sake…"

"…And I think you are right. We need them. But some of the others might not see it that way."

Khaleen rolled her eyes. "Davitheen."

"Davitheen is on your side, whether you believe it or not. He may not be overfond of you, but he has never been one to let his opinions interfere with his loyalty. If he has seemed at odds with you it was because…"

But Khaleen wasn't listening. The rim of the first sun broke the horizon, flooding the clouds with color. Pink and orange light spread across the countryside – but no, the color was darker than that, redder, and thicker. It seemed to roll slowly on, drenching the trees, pooling in hollows and little valleys. With a shock Khaleen saw that blood, not light, poured from the rising suns. The smell of it filled her nose; the entire planet seemed to list under her, and far away, on all sides, she heard the screams of men and women and children.

"Khaleen. Khaleen!"

Someone was shaking her by the shoulder. She came to with a start. The first sun was in the sky and the second was halfway up. The treetops were pink.

"What's wrong?" Algrim demanded.

She realized that she was shaking and sweating. She unclenched her hands and found that she had dug them into the ground on either side of her. Her fingers were stained with grass and dirt. Her head spun.

"I have to see Alflyse," she said.

* * *

Ten minutes later the they stood in the entrance to Alflyse's hall, winded and in disarray. The house was in confusion. Doors slammed in the distance; servants hurried past without offering a greeting. Alflyse appeared striding towards them. Khaleen opened her mouth, but the princess cut her off.

"What did you see?"

Khaleen felt Algrim start behind her. If she hadn't been so frightened she might have wondered how Alflyse knew. But urgency gripped her. She launched into an explanation. As she described the bloody sunrise and the horrible things she'd heard and smelled, Alflyse grew visibly troubled, more so even than when Khaleen had told her about Amberle.

"Something's happened, hasn't it?" she said when she had finished. "Grandmother, what's going on?"

Dark sclera showed all the way around Alflyse's eyes and her mouth was pressed into a line. "We must find Vespalder," she said at last. "I fear something terrible has overtaken him."


	23. Deterioration

Shouting and confused bustle filled the Ark as the crew gathered back on board. Algrim scrambled to get a head count; Davitheen had taken charge of the bridge and was beginning launch preparations. Khaleen headed down to engineering.

" – But the compulsion drive needs to be serviced and there's a hull survey to be done and we just replaced the main gravitron rods – "

"I know, Hodhshi, I know that." Khaleen had to push past hurrying crewmen to keep the head engineer in sight. "I asked how long it will take to launch."

"Well, I don't…" He ducked under a pipe being carried past. "We still need fluid stock and tesseride coils and – "

She waved her hands at him to stop. "Just give me an estimate."

"Impossible to say. This is a very old ship. You can't just – "

"Hodhshi. The Grey Elves are in trouble."

Hodhshi stopped talking. Khaleen could guess what he was thinking; the night of the feast she had seen him leave the bonfires with one of the Grey Elvish girls.

"We can be off the ground in an hour," he said.

* * *

Khaleen rejoined Algrim and Davitheen on the bridge. The floor was already vibrating as the engines roared to life.

"All present and accounted for," Algrim reported. She nodded.

"As soon as we leave the atmosphere I want the  _geileel_  at battle stations. Have somebody on comms at all times, and try to hail them. If that doesn't work start scanning; we need to find that ship."

Violet pushed through the press of people at the door. Her civilian dress stood out among the  _geileel._

"Leena, I gotta talk to you – "

"Not now, Vi. Where the hell is Versang? Tell him to prep the infirmary. We don't know what we're gonna find."

"But Khaleen, there's something you need to – "

" _Vörthih!_  We're receiving a message." It was one of the junior officers. Khaleen turned toward him. "Broad spectrum, all frequencies. It's a distress signal. Origin: the  _Mystborne._ " He transferred it to the main projector for them to see. The flashing red letters cast their faces into relief.

"Is there any more?" Khaleen asked.

"No, that is all –" something caught the officer's attention. Davitheen took a step towards him.

_"Tifelju'th vathe?"_

The man stared at the display. "It's the record of outbound messages. It's been tampered with."

"You're sure?"

"I don't know what else could cause this." He motioned to something Khaleen couldn't see. Davitheen stooped over his shoulder.

"Look into it. Find out what was removed and by whom." The officer turned back to his console.

"What do you mean? What was it?" Khaleen asked as Davitheen rejoined them.

"Someone sent a message and then tried to hide it. We'll know in a moment what it was."

Khaleen glanced at Algrim. He was still staring at the distress signal on the projector.

"Jarleth," He called to the junior officer. "Find out when it was sent."

"Leena." Violet tugged at Khaleen's cloak.

"Later, Vi. Go tell the surgeons to get ready."

"But – "

"Do what I tell you. Why are you still in here?"

Violet bit her lip and hurried off. Khaleen didn't have time to wonder what she had been trying to say. At that moment Jarleth spoke up.

"Message recovered. Narrow spectrum… looks like it was sent on three commonly used frequencies."

"Put it on screen," Algrim ordered.

The distress signal disappeared and was replaced by an image. It had rough quality to it, as though it had been hastily copied from something else. An Ark engine schematic hovered in the center; on the side was a detailed diagram showing various emissions. Emissions that not even a cloaking shield could hide…

Khaleen stared at the screen open-mouthed as the realization struck her.

"Shit."

* * *

Blakavar dodged into the infirmary and tried to locate the young princess. He knew he had only a few minutes before the assistant surgeon saw him and threw him back out.

"Violeth! What's going on? We've been ordered to battle stations and someone said that the Grey Elves have called for help –"

Violet turned toward him with a start. She looked frightened; the healthy flush had gone from her face and her hands twisted together. Before she could speak Versang swept into the room behind her and caught sight of Blakavar.

" _Geilää_! What are you doing here?"

Blakavar's heart sank. Now he was in for it. He snapped to attention.

"Speaking to the Princess, sir."

"Very good… As you were." He walked past them. Blakavar turned to gape at him. They had just sounded battle stations and he wasn't at his post. Had Versang gone blind? He was still trying to figure it out when Violet seized his arm and spoke to him in a whisper.

"Something's very wrong here. You have to tell Khaleen. I  _have_  to speak with her."

* * *

"This is bad. This is very, very bad."

Khaleen paced in her quarters. Algrim stood by, arms folded. Davitheen, Hodhshi, and two of the junior officers stood around the table. They had gathered here for an emergency council, hoping to keep the matter quiet until they could figure out what to do.

"Should we proceed with the mission?" Hodhshi asked. "We don't know who picked up the transmission – anyone might have seen it. If we go out there, they can track us. We lose our main defense."

"Assuming they interpret it correctly," said one of the junior officers, a tall, battle-scarred man named Saathas.

"There's no reason to think they won't," said Khaleen. "You don't have to read Todjydheenil to figure out that chart."

"Then we should turn around," said Hodhshi. "We should go back to Gimla, where we have some protection."

"No," Davitheen cut in. "Khaleen, even if we are found out, we can fight if we have to. Vespalder's people cannot. And this may be the reason they are in trouble. If someone intercepted that message and interpreted it, the Grey Elves' cloaks would be rendered just as useless as ours."

"You think there's a connection, then?"

"The Commander agrees with me." He nodded toward Algrim. "That transmission was made three days ago. That's more than enough time."

Khaleen's tongue stuck to her teeth. She swallowed. "We need to find out who sent it."

"I've got Jarleth on it now. We'll know soon."

Someone entered the room behind her and Algrim moved to intercept. Khaleen ignored them; instead she scanned the faces of the assembled officers. Anxiety hung over the gathering. She knew it was her imagination, but it seemed that even the blank eyes of their masks looked afraid. She wondered if one of them had sent the transmission. Who could she trust?

"Where's Versang?" she asked. "Why isn't he here?" The surgeon could always lend some clarity to a discussion. Davitheen shook his head.

"He was summoned. I can't say why he hasn't responded."

"That why I've come," said a voice behind them. Khaleen turned. It was Blakavar. His mask was off and his eyes shone in the darkness. "I was just in the infirmary. Versang is acting very strange. Violeth is frightened; she sent me to you. She says something is wrong and she needs to speak to you now."

Davitheen looked at him sharply. Khaleen glanced at Algrim, who shrugged, perplexed.

" _Vorthih_ , we are on the borders of Alfheim's atmosphere," Saathas said.

"What do you want us to do?" Davitheen pressed.

Khaleen closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe normally. … _Seek what is right and just…_  The cut on her palm prickled and she clenched her fist.  _Think, stupid_.

"We proceed with the mission. Find the  _Mystborne_. Stay on high alert; if we're intercepted, we fight." Algrim nodded. He and Davitheen left to give the necessary orders. She turned to Blakavar. "Bring Violet here. I'll talk to her in private. And tell Versang – never mind, I'll go down myself, after I see Vi." Turning to the remaining officers, she said: "I know some of you have… people on that ship. The Grey Elves are our friends, our allies – "

"Our families," Hodhshi said quietly. Khaleen paused.

"Yes. They are. And we are going to do everything we can for them, so help me God – "

" _Vorthih!_ " Jarleth strode into the room. His mask was off and his face had a sallow cast to it. He didn't stop to salute Khaleen, but marched straight to the table and slammed a projector down, turning it on as he did so.

"I found him," he spat.

The hologram showed a surveillance recording from the bridge, dated three days ago. A figure entered through the rear door. He saluted the guard on duty and dismissed him; as the guard left, the newcomer moved to one of the consoles, fumbled with a data card, and began what was undoubtedly a transmission sequence.

Even with their masks and uniform armor, Dark Elvish soldiers never have trouble telling one another apart. On the Ark, especially, they had spent so much time together that everyone could identify everyone else by their carriage alone. So despite the fact that the perpetrator never removed his mask, there was no doubt at all as to who it was.

It was Versang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tifelju'th vathe?: What is it?


	24. Treachery

No one spoke. Khaleen stood rooted to the spot. She had forgotten how to breathe – the whole universe was collapsing in on her. There had to be a mistake.

Versang, her counselor. Versang, her friend.

The recording started over again, and then again. There was no mistake. There he was, undeniably. The hazy shape of the transmission could even be made out as he sent it.

Versang, a traitor.

The universe collapsed inward, and then exploded. Khaleen whirled away from the recording. Jarleth she sent to find Algrim, with orders to gather as many  _geileel_  as he could and meet her in the infirmary. Saathas she sent to Davitheen on the bridge, and Hodhshi was to return to the engines.

"We are in a state of emergency," she told them. "Consider the Ark under attack. Hold the bridge and the engine room at all costs until you get the all-clear from either Algrim or me." She took off before anyone could stop her. In the corridors she overtook Blakavar and barked at him to follow her. He fell in behind, not daring to question her.

_You cannot accept defeat!_  Surely she was dreaming. This was madness.  _Is this the legacy of the House of Kitharn? That a coward become the heir of Malekith the Accursed?_  Her blood roared in her ears.

Versang was not in the outer room of the infirmary when they arrived. The assistant surgeon, taken aback, directed Khaleen to a rear room that served as a laboratory and storage space for specialized materials. She found him inside, absentmindedly sorting vials. Violet was across the room, packing trauma kits, her arms working in forced, jerky motions. She looked up when Khaleen entered, a mixture of terror and relief on her face.

"Violet. Leave." The girl dropped the kit she was holding and darted past. Blakavar threw an arm around her and they walked as fast as they could toward the exit. Khaleen shut the door behind them.

"Take off your mask, Versang," she ordered. "Look me in the face like a man, if that's what you still are." The surgeon stood up and obeyed. He didn't seem surprised by her entrance, only wary. His eyes flickered in her direction, but he didn't turn.

Khaleen took out and activated the projector, showing him the surveillance recording. He watched it out of the corner of one eye and said nothing.

"What have you got to say for yourself?" she demanded. Versang said nothing, but turned his attention to laying his mask on the shelf before him, as if the exact way it sat were of immense importance. Khaleen continued.

"We have that transmission. We know what was sent and when. Every enemy in this sector may be zeroing in on us right now. Tell me I'm not arresting the wrong man. Tell me that one of my chief officers hasn't sold every one of his shipmates to destruction!" Her voice had risen. "Say something, man!"

"Someone had to push you." Versang's voice was low and cold. He turned, for the first time defiant. "You think you can run and hide; you play at being queen and imagine that if you throw down your weapons the universe will welcome you with open arms. You and your oaths and alliances – you know nothing of your birthright! You know nothing of what was lost!"

"I may not know what was lost, but I know that we stand to lose everything that's left because of this transmission. Do you realize that the Grey Elves are in trouble? The flaw in our shields – it's the same in theirs. You didn't just betray us, you betrayed them!"

Versang seemed genuinely surprised by this revelation. He drew himself up. "So be it," he said. "It was a necessary risk."

"There are civilians on that ship, children – "

"And no doubt the preborn children of some of our own, by barter-women!" Versang stood straight, shaking with fury. "You want to weigh us down with women and children and philosophers! I may have pushed you out before your enemies, but at least you can no longer hide and pretend you have none. I did what I did to remind you that we are a warrior people, and our victory is not yet accomplished!"

Cold wrath solidified in Khaleen's chest. "Versang, you are under arrest for treason. You will be tried before the council – "

"What?" Dismay crossed his face. "No! If you want to contend with me, do it in the old way! Face me and prove your accusation in blood, if you dare!" He drew a knife. "Prove it now!"

The sound of many footsteps came from the outer room, along with Algrim's booming voice.

"Kittas!" Versang cried. "Hold the door! Don't let them pass!" An indistinct voice answered back and they could hear arguing. Khaleen stared at the surgeon, not bothering to hide her disgust.

"This is bullshit." She turned toward the door. "It's over."

Several things happened at once. Versang sprang at Khaleen, his face wild with desperation. The door opened before she could lay a hand on it; the entrance was blocked with half a dozen figures. Khaleen had the briefest glimpse of Algrim's and the assistant surgeon's faces, open-mouthed in horror. Then everything exploded in a confusion of shouts, curses, blades being drawn, flailing arms and kicking feet.

When it was over, at least six armed geileel stood in and out of the little lab. Some of them had their rifles pointed at the surgical staff, who stood against the walls, hands raised. Khaleen clutched the doorframe for support. Her tabard had been slashed across the front. She realized distantly that she was shaking. Algrim and Kittas crouched in the middle of the floor. Algrim was bleeding from his nose and a cut over his eye; the assistant surgeon was covered in blood, all up one side of his body. Both were breathing heavily and clutching bloodstained knives. Between them on the floor lay Versang. Blood spilled from his mouth; his glassy eyes stared at the ceiling, fixed forever.


	25. Loss

"What do you sense,  _vörthih_?" Khaleen had been rubbing at her temples. She looked up at Davitheen's question. "Can you feel them out there?"

"The only thing I feel is sick," she said. They stood on the bridge while the search for the  _Mystborne_ went on. Violet had checked her over – several times, actually – and had pronounced her unhurt in the struggle; but now the adrenaline rush was wearing off, to be replaced by a pounding headache. Davitheen was still speaking.

"You may be able to find them more easily that we can. The powers of my mind are slight compared to what has been seen in your family."

Khaleen didn't bother asking him what he was talking about. Her mind was still in the infirmary. The investigation had ruled Versang's treachery did not encompassed any more of the crew, but this came as small comfort to the infirmary staff when they learned what he had done. Kittas, the assistant surgeon, was in a state of shock worse than Khaleen's; he had knelt at her feet and asked her to take his life, or let him return it. She had ordered him back on duty.

"Saathas, report," Davitheen barked. Khaleen jumped.

"Still nothing. We know the vector they took; we should have overtaken them by now."

Khaleen swallowed with difficulty as another wave of nausea subsided. Davitheen turned toward her.

"Go rest."

She ground her teeth. "Not until we find them."

"That might not be for hours. Vomiting on my bridge won't make it happen sooner. Go; a strong drink and some rest will set you right."

Khaleen didn't bother with the drink. She wasn't entirely sure how she found her way back to her quarters, and when she reached them, she collapsed onto her bed without undressing. Thought faded to a semiconscious haze, and from that to sleep.

* * *

The ugly tapestry on the back wall had come to life. It hovered near the ceiling, a twisting mass of liquid – or was it sand? It whispered to her, but Khaleen couldn't understand what it said. She didn't have time to try; she was busy. She carried Versang's body on her back, down a gauntlet of kings and Aether-keepers who stared sternly past her. At the end of the gauntlet she was sure she would have to put the body down and answer for the surgeon's death. Blood dripped over her shoulder, hitting the ground in familiar patterns. She would never get the stains up, no matter how hard she scrubbed. Then she was flying through space, looking for an invisible ship, and she couldn't remember why. Who was on the ship? Kelly? No, that wasn't right. She must be getting close – but then the invisible ship started buzzing, and Kelly was screaming at her to _Get back! Run!_  There was a horrible rending sound, and she heard screams – women and children and philosophers, Silas and Violet and Algrim – and the blast wave hit her, hurling her back, back, too far to help them…

* * *

Khaleen hung between sleep and wakefulness. She heard voices; why had she fallen asleep on the bridge? She couldn't tell what the voices were saying. They were startled, afraid.  _Get the queen_ , she heard someone say.

Her eyes popped open. She wasn't on the bridge at all – she was in her quarters, lying in bed with her boots on, her slashed tunic, and one arm asleep. The ugly tapestry hung in its place on the back wall.  _I have got to get rid of that thing._

She pushed herself up and rubbed the grit from her eyes. Her head didn't hurt as much, and she felt stronger for having slept. She was thinking that she ought to go to the galley and get something to eat when footsteps in the hallway were followed by a pounding on her door.

"Enter."

It was Jarleth. His chest was heaving as though he'd just run a long way.

" _Vörthih_ , you're needed on the bridge," he gasped. "We found them."

* * *

Algrim's watch on the bridge relieved Davitheen's not long after Khaleen left. By now they had traveled for most of the day at top speed and still found nothing. Algrim decided to turn around and go back over the area they had covered. Reasoning that the  _Mystborne_ might no longer be under power, he instructed the crew to expand their search to inert objects or clusters of a certain size and composition. Within two hours they found what they were looking for.

Khaleen skidded into the bridge behind Jarleth. No one spoke, which wasn't unusual; but no one moved, either. They were all staring at the viewing mirror. Algrim glanced helplessly at her as she came in. Khaleen shivered.

"Where are they?" she asked, coming up beside Algrim. In answer he nodded at the mirror.

At first she wasn't sure what she was seeing. It looked like some kind of plant – a plant in space? That couldn't be right – then her mind pieced it together and she wanted to scream. That wasn't the  _Mystborne_ , that couldn't be the  _Mystborne._ The  _Mystborne_  was intact and full of people, not twisted and shattered into a thousand pieces. It wasn't possible, it wasn't real –

As much she wanted to deny it, she couldn't. The smell and the screams of her vision – she had known. Alflyse had known. Across a billion miles of space, they had known.

She took a few steps forward. The floor swayed under her; she put out a hand and leaned on the console. She felt Algrim's footfalls beside her and his hand on her shoulder. Behind them, Davitheen came running in, along with others. Silas was there, and Hodhshi. The latter turned away almost at once and left the room. Someone muttered an oath.

"Search for survivors," Khaleen heard herself say.

"We're scanning now," said Algrim, "but there won't be any. Anyone on that ship was killed instantly or within minutes. It would have been quick," he added. "There would have been little pain, and no time for fear."

Khaleen clenched her hands on the console.  _That's supposed to be comforting?_

"Who did this?" she choked.

"We'll find out," Algrim promised.


	26. Splendor and Wrath

Khaleen wasn't sure what was holding her together at this point, but she was grateful for it. Everyone on the bridge was watching her, waiting for her next move. If on top of everything else they had to see her fall apart, it was over.

In the corridor there were fewer eyes, but Khaleen's bearing didn't change. Some part of her couldn't connect the smiling face of Vespalder with the charred hulk of the  _Mystborne_.

_You know it's true. It's gonna hit you soon._

_Just keep walking._

In the corridor she nearly tripped over someone sitting against the wall. It was Hodhshi. His mask was off and he sat with his legs drawn up to his chest, weeping against his knees. When he noticed Khaleen standing over him, he looked up in the bewilderment of heartbreak.

Khaleen's stomach twisted. She held back the tide for now, stayed straight-faced and strong. They couldn't see her break.

"Get up," she said. "Hodhshi, get up. We need you."

The engineer looked away. Khaleen knelt beside him. She picked up his mask and put it in his hand; then she put his arm over her shoulder and stood up, taking him with her. Once he had his feet under him, he seemed a little steadier. He lowered his eyes bitterly to the floor.

"Hodhshi." She made him look at her. "We need you. Go to the engine rooms. Get Jazal and Silas. Keep the engines running; we'll need them later."

He hesitated, then nodded. Wiping his eyes, he put his mask back on and marched off to carry out his orders.

Khaleen made it to her quarters and closed the door. With no one watching, the grief hit her like a sword stroke.

* * *

An hour later Algrim found her lying with her head and arms on the table, staring at the mask beside her.

"Khaleen," he called. "We've completed the scans of the debris. We have the results."

Khaleen didn't answer at first.

"I never really looked at the masks before," she murmured at last. "They've got this blank look on 'em and blank eyes, like they don't feel nothing and nothing can touch 'em. But then they've got these." One finger traced the line that ran down from a lens. "It's like they're crying… they never stop crying." She lifted her head and half-turned toward the commander. "We were never meant to be happy, were we?"

Algrim didn't know what to say. "The men will not lose heart so long as you command them. You are our  _vörth_."

"Maybe you chose the wrong  _vörth_."

"And who should have been chosen?" He had meant it to be rhetorical. But Khaleen looked straight at him, and he knew how she would answer. He didn't want to hear it. Before she could speak, he cut her off.

"We scanned the debris looking at the nature of the damage, weapons residue, and anything that didn't belong to the  _Mystborne_ , anything that might have fallen off an enemy ship during the attack. Damage and residue analysis are consistent with weapons used by the Skrull. We found this, as well." He activated a hologram showing a chunk of something half organic, half mechanical. "Whatever they were using for a ship seems to have sustained some damage."

Khaleen sat up and stared at the hologram. "Chitauri." Her voice was stronger.

Algrim's mouth twisted. "Yes."

"How long ago? And can you track them?"

"More than two watches ago. And yes."

Khaleen stood up. The room rang with her next words.

"Find them."

* * *

The Chitauri, it turned out, had not gone far. Two hours into the search, an image appeared on the heads-up display.

"There's a ship approaching us," Jarleth reported.

"Do they know we're here?" Algrim asked.

"Possibly. They've slowed their momentum and are scanning the area."

"Maintain shields – "

"No." Khaleen's voice cut across them. "Lower the cloaking shields. Let them see who we are. And open a communications channel."

The Chitauri picked up the channel and spoke first. The voice that spoke was reptilian: cold, harsh, and arrogant.

"We are the Chitauri, the servants of Thanos! Who are you that dare challenge us where we have the mastery?"

"You do not have the mastery here." Khaleen's voice was iron. "Without provocation, you attacked and killed the Wandering Grey Elves of the ship  _Mystborne._ "

Davitheen stood with his feet planted and his shoulders hunched, tensed for action. On Algrim's other side, Silas clutched a knife in his belt so hard his glove squeaked. The cold voice laughed.

"What were they to you? Who are you?"

"Who am I?" Something in Khaleen's face ignited. "My name is Khaleen Donovan, daughter of Ryan Donovan of Midgard, heiress to the House of Kitharn and queen of the last remnant of Harudheen. I am the ally and kinswoman of Vespalder of the Wandering Grey Elves, whom you killed." She was smiling, a mad, deadly smile. "I am the right hand of vengeance, and I will be the last thing you ever see in this universe. God sent me."

"They're powering their weapons!" Jarleth cried.

"All speed forward! Ramming maneuver!" Khaleen shouted.

The Arks of the Dark Elves were vessels intended for troop transport, not pitched combat, and they were notoriously devoid of any offensive weapons. They did, however, have one thing in common with the agile, cutting Harrows. The shipwrights of Harudheen had given to them, as to all their craft, a narrow profile and heavy forward armor. The  _Malekithas Heedra_ was ancient and fragile, but it was faster than the Chitauri ship, and when it struck it cut through their hull like a knife.

It was over in seconds. Only a twisted wreck remained behind them, flashing as burning gasses were expelled into the void.

"Damage report," Khaleen called. Her shoulders drooped as she said it.

"Minimal. Some minor damage to rear-facing sections; we had some explosions behind us."

"Bring us about," Algrim ordered. It was standard procedure, to ensure that no shrapnel struck the lighter-armored parts of the Ark. Khaleen turned toward him.

"It's over." She sounded infinitely tired.

"Yes." He watched her with new appreciation. She had fought her first battle and avenged their fallen, had proven herself a capable war leader. He was about to say this when Silas cried out and pointed. Something had flashed through the viewing mirror. Algrim had a split second to wonder what it was, then –

The heads-up display flashed red –

Jarleth screamed a warning –

Every alarm on the bridge was going off at once –

The front of the bridge exploded. Silas would later describe seeing Khaleen silhouetted against a shower of sparks, both arms thrown over her face as she was lifted off her feet by the force of the explosion. Algrim saw none of this. The shock hurled him sideways into a wall, and he knew nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: To any fans of Babylon 5, yes, that is a paraphrase of Ivanova's speech.


	27. The Heart is Broken

The first thing Algrim was aware of was the pain in his head. He tried to get up, lost his bearings, and fell forward retching. Something sticky covered the side of his head, matting his braids.  _I've been wounded,_ he thought. All around him were cries and the acrid smell of burning electronics. He vaguely remembered being on the bridge; they had fought a battle, and then…

_Oh, no._

Cursing the pain, he managed to get to his knees and look around. Smoke hung over everything. The viewing mirror was cracked, and half the console had collapsed. A gaping hole had been ripped in the wall to the right of it, and a huge shard of something definitely not from the Ark protruded through it. Damaged equipment snapped and threw off sparks while crewmen groaned and tried to pick themselves up or disentangle themselves from the wreckage.

"Sound off," Algrim barked, as loudly as he could. "Who's not dead?"

"Davitheen, alive and here." The officer was climbing shakily to his feet. "Commander, your head –"

"I know. Are you hurt?"

"I think not."

"Get the medics up here. Tell them to look after the crewmen first. And get these fires out!" He leaned forward and pressed a hand to his head. He hoped he wasn't bleeding too badly.

"Leena!" Silas was up, stumbling over the rubble. "Leena!"

"Quiet, boy!" Algrim snarled, but at the same time a thrill of fear ran through him. Khaleen had not answered.

"Medics are on their way." Davitheen was back. "Where's the queen?"

Before Algrim could answer, Silas gave a cry and vaulted a pile of debris, coming to a spot where part of a wall panel had collapsed. Someone was under it. He began digging frantically.

"Don't move the wounded!" shouted Davitheen. Silas didn't seem to hear him.

"Help me!" he cried. "Somebody help me!"

Nausea forgotten, Algrim lunged to his feet and staggered towards the boy. Wedging himself under the wall panel, he shouldered it aside and stooped to examine the figure pinned beneath it.

Davitheen was still shouting, but Algrim couldn't hear him. He had lost all feeling in his body; he could only stare at the half-open eyes, only listen to the jerky, shallow breathing. What stayed with him the longest was that despite all the blood, not a drop of it marred Khaleen's snow white braids.

* * *

"Concussion." Algrim winced as Violet flashed a red light into his eyes. "Moderate, maybe severe. I'm taking you off duty for a couple days to heal." She dipped a pad into a foul-smelling bowl and placed it over the cut on Algrim's head. It stung, but the wound felt cooler.

"Two days?" he protested. "This ship is in crisis – "

"It'll be in a worse crisis if you collapse from a brain bleed." She bandaged the pad in place. "You can work half duty on day three and we'll see how you do."

"But – "

"You've been designated unfit for duty until this heals." Violet finished bandaging and looked him in the eye. "You can comply, or I can sedate you."

Algrim sighed and glowered at the floor.  _Trust one of Kitharn's descendants._  The girl was almost as forceful as Khaleen.

Thinking of Khaleen made his head hurt. He started to get up but Violet put a hand on his arm.

"I have to see her."

"No, Algrim. Kittas is still working on her. He'll let us know when we can see her." Violet gathered her supplies. The influx of casualties had found the surgical staff shorthanded and overwhelmed, and the princess had been assigned to run triage and minor wound care. "I have to check on Jarleth. If his vitals drop again we may need to operate." She hurried off, leaving Algrim sitting on the exam table, staring at his hands.

He was determined to stay and wait; if the medics didn't like it, they could throw him out themselves- if they could. He might have been more comfortable in his quarters; sitting on the table made his back hurt, and there was nothing to see here except the wounded and the occasional argument between medics. But the queen was wounded. What if something happened and he wasn't there?

After what felt like a year, a door in the back opened and Kittas called something out. Violet dropped what she was doing and hurried over with some items the surgeon had requested; after he disappeared back inside, she hung nervously by the door, but didn't go in. Algrim took this as a sign that the surgery was complete and got up. Violet didn't stop him from going in. Her head was bowed and tears shone on her face. Algrim wanted to say something to her, to tell her it would be alright, but she turned away before he could and went back to her patients. Inside the door, Kittas met him. The surgeon's shoulders slumped; he looked exhausted.

"Commander – I don't know how to say this…"

"Just tell me."

Kittas took a deep breath. "The impact severed her spine. She's paralyzed below the neck. There's more – severe internal bleeding. I stopped what I could find, but she's in shock, and she's not compensating."

"Is there anything that can be done for her?" Algrim tried to keep his voice businesslike. The surgeon shook his head.

"I don't know. Versang did; I know he did. But there was so much he never taught me." The surgeon's voice trembled. "I've done all I can for her. If I try to do any more, I'll kill her for sure."

Algrim closed his eyes and laid a hand on Kittas' shoulder. He could say nothing to console the man. He turned to where the queen lay at the back of the room.

She was strapped into a table not unlike the one he had just left. Her head and neck were fixed in place by an elaborate framework. A half dozen tubes passed through her suit into her body at various places; Algrim tried to keep his mind from the fact that these tubes were all that were keeping her alive right now. Her face was a waxy gray, and she seemed unaware of her surroundings. But when Algrim called out to her, she opened her eyes and turned them toward him, her lips soundlessly forming his name. He walked up beside her and took her hand. It was limp, and he wondered if she could even feel it. He reached up and stroked her face.

"You're going to be alright," he lied. "We'll get you back to Alfheim – Alflyse will help you."

"No." Her voice was little more than a croak. "…Ship's too badly damaged… not gonna make it in time." Algrim started to protest, but she was struggling to speak. "Silas… Vi…"

"They're here," he said. "They're safe."

She shut her eyes. "…Not gonna make it." A spasm of pain crossed her face. Algrim held on until it passed and she opened her eyes. Those strange eyes, with their pale rims; grey, not black. A child's eyes… She was so young.

"I screwed up," she mumbled. "Took an oath – couldn't even keep it a whole day… was supposed to keep our people safe."

"We had people on the  _Mystborne_ ," Algrim reminded her. "You did all you could for them."

"…Shoulda kept us outa the fight… Not what I was supposed to do. I lost it." A tear ran down her face. Algrim carefully wiped it away. After a moment, she spoke again.

"…Shoulda been you."

"What?"

" _Vörth._  Shoulda been you. You're the brains… the heart. Never woulda got us into this mess…"

" _You_  are the heart." Algrim choked. "You were chosen; you are the royal blood. It was always yours. I would have followed you always."

She fixed him with those young-old eyes.

"…Silas…"

"I'll help him."

Something like a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. " _Ruushuudhith._ " There was a faint pressure from the hand that Algrim held. The effort must have cost Khaleen all the strength she had left; she closed her eyes, breathing heavily. On her other side, Kittas adjusted something in one of the tubes.

"You should go," he said. "I'll let you know if there is a change."

Algrim nodded. He didn't even have the strength to argue with the medic who ushered him out. His feet found their way back to his quarters without his direction; inside, he shut the door and sat down against the wall.

When Harudheen fell, he had not wept. There was a fleet to be kept together, vengeance to be planned. Again, when the fleet was lost in that last, terrible battle, he had not wept. He had the crew to think of, the preparations for a long sleep. Even when Malekith was lost, he had not wept. There had always been something pressing, some urgent task in which to bury his grief and keep moving.

But there was no task now. Vengeance for the Grey Elves had been had, and he was too badly wounded to take part in the command of the Ark. He was alone now and helpless, and his queen was dying. What good is a mind or strength or nerve when the heart is broken?

Algrim laid his head in his arms and wept.


	28. Nerve

The chain of command was shattered. Half the crew still thought Algrim was in command; the rest weren't sure if they were supposed to report to Davitheen, as acting commander, or to Silas. A large piece of shrapnel, blown off the Chitauri vessel during the attack, was still embedded in the bridge's bulkhead, having smashed through two other hull segments on its way there, and Hodhshi's men were having trouble repairing the damage without venting the ship to space. For his part, Silas tried to imitate Khaleen, running around, encouraging the men, trying to keep a clear idea of what was going on. It was an admirable attempt; but mostly he only succeeded in getting in the way.

With all the chaos on the Ark, it was only natural that the acting commander should be found… in the infirmary, arguing with a very young apprentice medic.

"No, you can't go in!"

"Violet, let me pass. She is my queen; I must make my report –"

"She's unconscious."

"They say hearing is the last thing to go –"

"You can't go in, Davitheen. Give her some privacy." The girl stood between him and the door, feet planted. The day's events had been hard on her; it was a terrible strain for one so young.

"She's dying, isn't she?"

"She's in a coma. I don't know what will happen."

"It could take a while. She's strong." Violet clenched her fists and glared at him. He hated to say this, but someone had to. "Violet, she doesn't have to suffer. I can help her –"

If she'd had a knife, she would have drawn it.

"Never," she hissed, and Davitheen was reminded that this quiet child was the offspring of the greatest warriors and enchanters Harudheen had ever known. Power crackled off her; she could pick him up and kill him with a gesture, and she didn't even know it. He stared her down coolly.

"This ship will never reach Alfheim in time. She'll be dead before Alflyse can help her. Violet, do you not believe there is hope left for her?" The girl's eyes wavered. He took a step forward, spreading out his hands to her. "I can help her. Please, let me help her. She's all our people have."

Violet took a long time to answer. At last, she took a deep breath.

"What do you want to do?"

* * *

"Get _up_ , you big stupid lunk!"

Algrim had dozed off, slumped at the foot of the wall just inside his quarters. He awoke with Silas's face six inches from his own and the impression that he had been shouting at him for some time. The boy's face was wild; his hair hung into his eyes in spite of the headpiece he wore.

Algrim levered himself into a sitting position and rubbed his face. He felt as though the blood in his veins had turned to sand. His head throbbed; his eyes were burning and gritty. Silas was still shouting at him.

"Get up, man! Don't you care that she's gone?" He seized the commander's arm and tried to pull him up, but Algrim jerked it away. He looked up at Silas, then turned his face to the wall.

"It's over, then."

"No, that's not –" Silas tore at his hair in frustration. "She was alive fifteen minutes ago! But I saw them carry something out, and now they won't let me into the infirmary. No one will say anything to me! I can't find Davitheen, a Harrow just left, no one knows what's –"

Algrim sprang to his feet, illness and grief forgotten. "What do you mean?"

"If she were dead, wouldn't they at least let me in?" Silas was nearly in tears. "I think they've taken her somewhere! I don't know if she's alive, or dead –"

Algrim sprinted out the door and down the hall, heading for the infirmary with Silas on his heels. Violet and two other medics met them at the door.

"Where is she?!" Algrim thundered. "Tell us the truth, and let us pass!"

The medics quailed under his wrath, but Violet didn't flinch. "It's for the best, Algrim. Stay back."

Algrim couldn't believe what was happening. Behind him, Silas spoke up.

"Vi, Leena's life is at stake –"

"I know!" She rounded on him. "I know that, better than either of you! This is the only chance she's got, and I won't let you interfere!"

Algrim fumed. "Where is Davitheen? How dare he let this happen on his own watch?"

Violet closed her mouth and glowered at them. Algrim knew, suddenly, what role the officer had played. His mouth went dry.

"Where have you taken her?" he croaked. "Where did that Harrow go? Tell me!"

By now a small crowd had gathered. Out of their midst stepped Blakavar – bravely, Algrim later realized.

"Davitheen didn't tell us why he ordered that Harrow prepped," he said. "We thought he meant to fly escort on the way back to Alfheim. He wouldn't let us near it when he embarked."

Algrim staggered, speechless under the weight of what was happening around him. Silas stared at his sister, aghast.

"She wasn't fit to travel," he breathed. "You've killed her!"

"We had to risk it," Violet said. "The only help for her is on Alfheim, and the Ark isn't fast enough."

Silas gave her one last look of disbelief before snapping into action. "Blakavar!" The young man jumped. "Get back down there and prep the other Harrow. Jazal, go with him. If he stalls or screws around, consider him complicit in the mutiny and shoot to kill. Diinesh, go to engineering and choose five other men; they're the only ones we know we can trust. Have them armed and on the Harrow deck in five minutes. Algrim," he turned to the commander, standing stunned in the middle of the hall. "Get your gear. We're going after them."

* * *

For what it was worth, Khaleen had been right about the Harrows. Even with diminished personnel and weeks of inattention, it took only minutes to prep the drop ship, despite the distance they expected to travel. Tense hours past in silence, until at last the copilot informed them that they were approaching Alfheim. Algrim told him to land as near Gimla as possible.

A cold rain had moved in, which suited the Dark Elves well enough. Algrim marched headlong into the damp twilight almost as soon as the Harrow touched down. Despite his mask, the dull light felt like another blow to the head, and he again cursed the injury which kept him too dizzy and nauseated to run. Silas stayed on his heels, jogging to keep up with the captain's strides and stumbling frequently as his day vision returned.

Even Violet had not been able to say where Davitheen meant to go, but Algrim knew where to begin his search. The valley before Alflyse's doors was deserted; he crossed it and made for the narrow cleft on the other side, never stopping to wonder whose eyes, if any, might be on him. The doors to the vault stood open, the corridor beyond unlit.

Silas and the half dozen men from engineering followed him inside, running to get ahead of him and meet any resistance. But there was none; the first passage was deserted, as was the vaulted chamber. As they crossed it, low voices echoed from the second passage. Silas shouted at Algrim to slow down; Algrim ignored him. His instinct said that Davitheen's men wouldn't shoot on sight, and he plowed ahead without waiting.

Halfway down the second passage he came upon them: four of the men usually assigned to security functions, all with ground combat experience. Even outnumbered, they were more than a match for Silas's engineering men. Algrim finally slowed enough to let the others catch up to him. An empty litter lay against the wall of the passage; neither Davitheen nor Khaleen were anywhere to be seen.

"Stay where you are," called one of the  _geileel._  He and his comrades blocked the passage, feet planted and rifles raised.

"Stand down, Reshlem!" Algrim barked. The men hesitated, and for a moment it looked like they would comply. Then Reshlem steeled himself and brought his rifle back to his shoulder.

"No, sir."

The engineers stared at Algrim. None of them had ever been in combat. He ground his teeth.

"So this is how it is," he said. "First Versang, now you. After all we've been through, can no one be trusted?"

"We are not traitors," Reshlem replied, his voice rising. "You were not yet cleared for duty when the decision was made. Davitheen was in command, not you, and we took our orders from him."

"You've as good as killed the queen, bringing her here –"

"Davitheen means to save her life. He knew you wouldn't understand; that is why he ordered us to hold this corridor at all costs."

Algrim began to advance. "I would have thought you would have learned your place, Reshlem. I should have sent you to the airlock when I had the chance!"

"I learned loyalty to my queen!" Reshlem took a step forward himself, leveling his rifle at Algrim's face. "Take one more step and I will shoot you, commander." There was neither fear nor anger in his voice. Reshlem might make rash decisions when drunk, but he was not drunk now.

A tense moment followed in which Reshlem didn't budge and Algrim wondered if it would be worth it to try to overpower him. The standoff was stretching into minutes when one of Reshlem's comrades glanced behind him.

"I think it's finished," he said.

"You're sure?" Reshlem didn't take his eyes off the commander.

"He said we would notice a change. It's stopped glowing."

Algrim followed his gaze to the door in the wall behind them. A faint light shone beneath it, but it faded rapidly. Without turning or lowering his rifle, Reshlem backed up.

"See if it will open," he ordered. The  _geilää_  moved to the door and pushed on it; it held for a moment but then, so abruptly the man overbalanced, it slid open under his hand.

"Yes," he said. "It is finished."

Reshlem let out a long breath and lowered his rifle away from Algrim's face. Shouldering his weapon, he stood at attention. The others followed suit.

"Our duty is fulfilled," he said.

Algrim stared at them, wondering if this was a trick. When they made no move, his called to Silas.

"Place these men under arrest." The engineers hurried forward to relieve them of their rifles. Reshlem's men did not resist, although they plainly could have overpowered their inexperienced captors and run for it. Algrim went to the open door and looked inside.

As he had expected, it was Anhevin's healing machine. He stepped inside. The copper tiles in the floor still hummed with energy, and a bright haze hung over all. In the center, on the stone dais, lay Khaleen.

She was arrayed as for a funeral; her hair had been combed and braided, she had been dressed in a clean tabard, and her cloak had been neatly pinned at the shoulders. Her face and body were composed, her hands folded on her chest over her knife. Beside her, on the floor, sat Davitheen. His head nodded forward onto the stone, either in sleep or despair. One hand was stretched out, resting on Khaleen's hands. Algrim's chest constricted. There was a choked sob to his right; Silas had joined him.

"You were too late," Algrim murmured. All his anger at Davitheen had left at the sight of the queen. She had shown so much promise, and her reign had been so short. What would become of them now? "Come, Davitheen. You and your men will not be charged."

The officer did not respond. Thinking that he might really have fallen asleep, Algrim knelt and shook him. The moment he touched him, he knew the man was dead. He turned the body over, staring in shock.

"What is it?" Silas asked.

"Davitheen…" Algrim searched frantically for a pulse, knowing he wouldn't find one.

"What's happening in there?" Reshlem called from the passage, and one of the engineers shouted at him to keep quiet.

"Dead." Algrim sat back weakly. Silas stared at Davitheen's corpse, then at Khaleen's, then glanced around the entire chamber. Next thing, he was crouched low over the queen's body, staring hard at its face.

"I don't understand," Algrim muttered, but he was interrupted. Silas sat up suddenly and begun rifling through the pouches on his belt, looking for something. Not finding it, he swore and turned to the door.

"Diinesh! Do you still have that spectroscope?"

"Uhhh…" came the reply.

"I just need something shiny!"

There was the sound of men scrambling to empty their pockets.

"There's a water flask here!"

One of the men ran into the room with the flask, a tiny silver keepsake of Grey Elvish make. Silas seized it and held it in front of the queen's face. The boy's eyes grew wide and his hand shook. Dropping the flask, he clutched at one of his cousin's hands.

"She's alive," he gasped. He met Algrim's eye and shock and joy and confusion and fear and relief passed between them. "She's alive!" he screamed.

Wild cheering erupted in the passage outside, and Reshlem's voice rang the loudest: "It worked! It worked!"


	29. Endurance

Alflyse arrived soon after. She seemed to know that Khaleen had been wounded, although her arrival back on Gimla had caught the old princess by surprise. There was no chance to learn what she knew or guessed; she took one look at the two figures on the floor, listened for a moment to Silas's stammered explanations, then ordered her handmaids in and spirited the unconscious Khaleen away without a word of explanation.

They wrapped Davitheen's body in a cloth from the main chamber and left it; Alflyse's staying spells would preserve it better than they could until it could be laid to rest. His death shocked the other conspirators as much as it had Algrim.

"But… It wasn't supposed to kill, was it?" Reshlem wondered. "He said it would heal her, he never said…"

"Anhevin said it didn't have to, but it could," Silas replied. "Maybe Davitheen didn't know what would happen. Maybe he meant to shut it off…"

"One of us should have gone in with him," said a  _geilää_.

"No," Reshlem said. "We could only do what we knew, and we only knew what he told us."

Their work done, they straggled outside, making, at Reshlem's suggestion, for the first Harrow. The suns were set, and the drizzle become a downpour. Algrim retained vague memories of staggering into the vessel and slumping against the wall, and of Silas making him drink something bitter, before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He awoke with a clear head. The others told him that he'd slept through most of three watches, and that they'd just received a transmission from the Ark. Algrim had them put it on visual, then proceeded to reassure Violet and the remaining officers and fill them in on what had happened. The Ark, Hodhshi reported, would not be entering the atmosphere for awhile due to the massive repairs that were still necessary.

"Where's Khaleen?" Violet had asked at last. "How is she? Can we talk to her?"

"Alflyse took her away as soon as she arrived," Algrim answered. "We haven't seen her since. Don't worry, she's in good hands." But as the transmission faded, he stood up and reached for his cloak and mask. "Silas, take charge while I'm gone. Reshlem, help him."

"Where are you going?"

"To see for myself how our queen is doing."

It was full, blinding daylight outside, and the ground was thick with mud. Davitheen's men had landed their Harrow in the woods above the vaults, and Algrim had some difficulty picking his way back down. Across the valley, he kicked the mud off his boots before taking the steps two at a time and pounding on Alflyse's door. It was answered by a short, round woman wielding a huge ring of keys and what looked like an ornate broom handle.

"Yes?" She had the impatient tone of the harried housekeeper. Algrim removed his mask, wincing in the harsh light.

"I've come to see Princess Alflyse."

"The Lady is extremely busy right now. I'm afraid you've come at a bad time." The housekeeper made to shut the door, but Algrim wedged his shoulder against it.

"Please! I only want to see Khaleen."

The housekeeper glared at him.

"The Queen is not receiving visitors today. Now excuse me, you are blocking the door." And raising the end of her staff, she poked him in the gut hard enough to make him double over in surprise and shut the door in his face.

Algrim rubbed his side and glowered at the door. It would be bad manners to break it down. He paced up and down for a few moments, then pounded on the door again.

"I told you, neither lady is receiving visitors today!" said the housekeeper when she saw him. "I cannot allow you in!"

"Tell them I'll wait," Algrim replied.

_SLAM._

Sighing, Algrim leaned against the doorpost and began his watch. After a while, his feet grew sore, and he sat down on the first step. He hadn't expected Alflyse to make him wait this long; after all, he was an old friend of the family, Malekith's brother-by-union, Khaleen's chief counselor, commander of the  _geileel_  of Harudheen, captain of the last Ark… He could sit on that stoop all day and recite reasons why he should be allowed in, and as the hours passed he began to wonder if that was what Alflyse meant to make him do. As the suns sank and the shadows grew long, he decided to give it another try.

_Whamwhamwham._  This time the door was opened by one of the Princess's veiled guards.

"I've come –"

"We were instructed to allow no one to pass," the woman said. "Not even you."

"But –"

_SLAM._

Darkness fell, and the night creatures of Alfheim came creeping and fluttering and chirping out of their daytime havens. Silas crossed the valley and informed Algrim that he had sent a party out to recover the second Harrow and return it to the Ark. He had food and water with him, and the two shared a scant meal on the door step. As he stood to go, he asked Algrim to come with him back to the Harrow.

"You'll be more comfortable waiting there," he said, but the commander shook his head. Silas cast a last look of foreboding at his grandmother's door before disappearing back into the night.

The next day dawned blinding and hot, and Algrim stayed at his post. Each time he knocked he was rebuffed and told that the Ladies were not receiving visitors at that time. Even after he gave up asking for entrance and begged just to know how Khaleen was doing, the closest he got to an answer was an irate "Clear off!" from the housekeeper and another poke in the ribs from her staff. The long periods when he wasn't arguing with the door wards gave him ample time to imagine the terrible possibilities that might even now be playing out. Why wouldn't they let him see Khaleen? Had she awoken? Was she ill or weak still, and they were trying to shield her? Or was she still unconscious? Maybe she would never awaken; maybe the life of her body had been saved, but her spirit had already fled. Or perhaps her wounds could not be healed, and she was condemned to live as a prisoner in her own body. Was that what Davitheen had laid down his life for? The thought of it nearly drove Algrim to panic.

Slowly, the shadows moved from east to west. People moved in the valley, but no one came up or entered the house. No one left the house, either. Algrim's head still hurt on and off, but at least the nausea was gone. The suns burned and the night air chilled him, and his limbs ached from lying on the unforgiving stone. Silas returned at intervals, bringing food and occasionally some of the remaining  _geileel_ , but they were poor company. Everyone was nervous and uncertain, and Algrim's temper was shortened by fatigue. Eventually, they always went back to the Harrow.

Another night passed and a third day dawned. Algrim stared at the stone edifice and wondered if Alflyse even knew he was out here. He was tired; he didn't want to be here. He wanted to be in the cool, familiar darkness of the Ark, lying in his own berth, with a reasonably good meal in his belly. More than that, he wanted Khaleen to be there, to know that she was in her own quarters only a few bulkheads away. He closed his eyes and tried to remember her face, but the sun seemed to have baked the memory out.  _Don't…_  He ground his teeth as the images slipped away from him. He couldn't lose her; they needed her. Davitheen had sacrificed his life to keep her from ending the way Malekith had. Algrim put his face in his hands and tried to steady his breathing. Had they simply been doomed from the start? Is would be the cruelest of jokes, letting them think there was hope, then crushing it out so soon.

_You were the heart. You were chosen._

Algrim got to his feet and went back to the door.

"Let me in," he demanded when the housekeeper opened it.

"I told you, the Lady is not receiving visitors." She was half his height, but she stood her ground.

"And I told you, I mean to see Queen Khaleen. You cannot keep me waiting forever."

"Oh, can I not –"

"Partha, what is it?" It was Alflyse's voice. Before the little housekeeper could respond, Algrim shouldered his way inside.

"Alflyse! Your hospitality is not what it once was. Or did your servants even tell you I was sitting at your door?"

The princess regarded him down the length of her nose. "My servants have done nothing beyond my orders. Khaleen is not yet ready to receive visitors."

"I am her chief officer, I have been with her from the start –"

"But you may not be with her now." Alflyse shook her head. "Faithful hound. Go back to your ship and look after your own. I will look after  _my_  own."

"Your own? What of Silas and Violet? They've had no word of their kinswoman."

"They know enough. They know she is not dead."

"They do not know if she will live, either!"

"Algrim the Strong, if you do not stop shouting in my halls, your strength will avail you little." Alflyse's hair and dress rustled as she gathered her power around her. Algrim knew she meant it, but he held his ground.

"I will not leave until I have seen her."

Alflyse began to raise her hand. "I warn you, commander –"

"Algrim!"

They both turned. It was her – was it her?

"Khaleen –" The Princess seemed annoyed.

"It's alright, Grandmother. I'm strong enough for this."

She stood in the entrance to the main passage off the hall. Her hair was unbound and fell back from her face, and she wore a long, grey dress – grey like pearls, or the passing of a dream. The garment swept to the ground, hiding her feet, but left her throat and arms bare. There was no sign of her injuries. She took a few steady steps toward him, passing the Princess.

" _Vörthih_ ," Algrim managed; his heart was in his throat. "How long have you –"

"A couple of days, I think. But I was really weak. They didn't say you'd come." She was only a few feet away now. Algrim's eyes nearly started out of his head; he felt that if he blinked, she might disappear. Trembling, he reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. She gave him a reassuring little smile; then he caught sight of her eyes and gaped. The grey was gone. In its place, rimming the bright silver, all was night-black.

"Algrim," she began. "They told me… Davitheen…"

And Algrim broke. He had no memory of a decision; he only knew he had fallen forward and embraced her, leaning his head against her shoulder, his own shoulders shaking as he wept. She stood up beneath him, strong as a pillar, and held him fast.

"It's okay, it's okay," she murmured in his ear. "I'm back, I'm back."

_End_


	30. Epilogue: Davitheen's Legacy

The baby was sleeping.

Bright white lashes swept chubby cheeks; a lock of white hair – he had been born with a full head of it – straggled across his forehead. Small, snuffling snores were interrupted by a whimper as he turned in his sleep, waving one hand feebly before folding it back beside his face.

Khaleen stared down at the little creature in her arms: her son, her firstborn. In the months since his birth, she had never tired of looking at him. Her own face was lined with fatigue, her dark eyes shadowed, but her smile was serene.

The child looked nothing like her, nothing like her family. It warmed Khaleen's heart for so many reasons.  _It's a sign,_  she thought for the thousandth time.  _A good sign._  It meant, perhaps, that the bad blood that had for so many generations plagued the House of Kitharn was finally spent.  _His father's face; perhaps his father's heart, as well._

Her baby fussed again and she rocked gently, humming a lullaby as old as the stars. It had been years since the Battle of the  _Mystborne_ , as her people had come to call it. So much had happened: the battles in and around Midgard, the uneasy truce with Asgard, the discovery their new Harudheen. So much promised to happen yet: the transformation of their caverns into streets and gardens and forests, the birth of Violet's and Brenthis's babies. They had been nothing, her people: hated, hunted, the faintest, fading shadow of a race. She had been no different. She had never had any power to help them; can nothing create from nothing? And yet they had been saved; restored, if not to their old place, to a good place. It was beyond the wisdom of the wise, beyond the strength of the strong. From nothing, they had become a people again, and a sign and example to the Nine Realms.

_That is what you won, Davitheen,_  she thought.  _That is what the price of your life bought. You would have called it a bargain._  Her son slept peacefully again, and she tucked the blanket closer around him. It would be years yet until he bore a name, until his father cut a lock of hair from his head as a thank offering and spoke his name before all Powers and worlds. It was the custom of their people; until then, he was  _Lainih_ , "my son." But when the day came, there would be no argument, not from his father or from the Council or the Seven Ladies. Because his mother had already chosen his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody want to take a guess at who the baby daddy is? :D


End file.
